


A Case Study

by redrose639



Series: Juxtaposition [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Discovery, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Ambassador Sarek - Freeform, F/M, Takes place mainly in Vulcan, Teacher Amanda, ft. Sarek's mother, l'tak terai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:42:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 102,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24167554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redrose639/pseuds/redrose639
Summary: Case study: an empirical inquiry that investigates the real-life context of a single individual or group to explore the causes of underlying principles or phenomenon.When Ambassador Sarek granted Dr. Amanda Grayson permission to conduct her research on Vulcan, she prepared herself for the uncertainty of space travel, the planet’s extreme heat, and the often-frustrating logic of its inhabitants. She did not prepare for being swept up in the rising tensions between humans and the Vulcan people.With Vulcan undergoing a period of turmoil, Sarek and Amanda often find themselves targeted by those in the shadows. Together, they maneuver the harsh and rough terrain of Vulcan and its politics.
Relationships: Amanda Grayson/Sarek
Series: Juxtaposition [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913416
Comments: 291
Kudos: 348





	1. The Fundamental Attribution Error

_The fundamental attribution error is our tendency to explain someone's behavior based on internal factors, such as personality or disposition, and to underestimate the influence that external factors, such as situational influences, have on another person's behavior._

* * *

“This news is disconcerting.”

Sarek’s slanted eyebrows formed a deeper V. This and a barely-there frown were the only signs that Sarek had heard his colleague, Velik, at all.

“We must not assume anything,” Sarek responded at last. In controlled, measured movements, he smoothed out a single crease on his heavy black robe. The Terran’s climate was most disagreeable as of late. The grey overcast outside the window did little to appease his dissatisfaction. “This hardly counts as news – rather simply speculations that lack factual basis.”

Velik was less restrained in his expression. The older Vulcan scowled, causing the lines already etched into his skin to deepen more. An admired scientist, Velik had spent a significant portion of his life living in the Terran world at the behest of the Federation. Sarek had taken note of a couple instances in which Velik’s emotional restraint had wavered, especially when it comes to patience. He supposed living among the humans for an extended amount of time could cause a Vulcan to waver more than what was appropriate. After initially meeting Velik, Sarek had consciously decided not to falter in Surak’s teachings.

“This ‘speculation’ had come from Minister T’Pol. The roots are beginning to hook deep into the soil, Ambassador. Valkh has considerable influence, and his bondmate is just as distinguished. With the two of them joining those _radicals_ , it is only time until the Vulcan people will begin to listen to their doctrines.”

It had been over five earth revolutions since Sarek had accepted the position for Vulcan ambassador. Although he had spent most of his time on Earth for his duties, he still represented the Confederacy of Vulcan. Thus, he continued to make considerable effort in familiarizing himself with the dynamic political situation of his homeworld. Thus, it was troubling to hear about the sudden ascent and rising influence of this Valkh.

Before Sarek could consider anything more, his assistant, Sivad, entered the conference room with his PADD in hand. Sarek mentally slotted his and Velik’s discussion for future contemplation.

Sivad gave a brief respectful bow before speaking. “The next group are in the electrical lift and will arrive in 3 minutes, 22 seconds. These humans are associated with the Federation’s Research Division. Project XL-4729.”

 _XL_. Xenolinguistics related. Sarek frankly had no understanding on why he was requested for this meeting by the Federation Council itself. His role as Vulcan’s representative primarily dealt with government affairs rather than research. It was infrequent that he himself was required to participate in the Federation’s research, especially since other Vulcan scientists such as Velik were able to offer their skills. It was why Sarek had requested his presence in the first place. Thus, why would have the Federation thought to involve the Vulcan ambassador?

His acute Vulcan hearing was able to decipher the sharp clicks he had come to associate with the human female’s footwear that they seem to value so much, despite its ineffective support structure. As the distance closed, he distinguished there were two females and one male, who wore softer soles but walked with a heavier gait.

Sarek stood, his hands lacing behind his back. It was a customary Vulcan stance for initial greetings, and Sarek found it especially agreeable in Terran environments. These people often preferred the shaking of hands, and while Sarek will submit to this human practice when offered, he found that they were less likely to initiate it if he concealed his hands like so.

After precisely 83 seconds, the human party stepped in the conference room, the sliding doors hissing shut behind them. It was a rather eccentric group, Sarek noted, but he was not surprised. He had read their files prior to this meeting after all.

The man was almost as tall as the two Vulcans and was twice as wide. Havin Xiu, Sarek recalled. He had considerable muscle that made it difficult to comprehend how a man with such stature could be an electrical engineer, which typically benefited from those with slim, nimble fingers. His short black hair stuck out with a lack of order, which only seemed to emphasize his bright, manic eyes. Even now, standing a respectful distance away, he was shifting restlessly with arms impatiently folding across his chest and unfolding.

The taller of the women carried a metal briefcase. It would have looked official if it wasn’t for the distractingly colorful stickers that were pasted on its silver surface. The woman’s skin had an olive tone similar to that of the Vulcans’, but the skin on her cheek gave way to synthetic metal layer – typical signs of augmentation. One eye was grey and human – the other blue and made of glass. Aisha Sarhal had joined Starfleet as a science officer on a research vessel, but a malfunction in her suit had led to irreparable brain damage. Augmentation had allowed most of her brain organ to retain its organic tissues, while the rest were replaced with an artificial brain mimic. Sarhal was one of the first warp-capable specimens to undergo and survive such a procedure.

The last woman had deep brown hair, only a few shades from being black, and her eyes of a lighter shade. She was shorter than all the members in the room, perhaps offering an explanation why she chose to wore shoes that allowed her to gain an adequate amount of height. Her dark navy dress was at a modest enough length below her knees, and the sleeves ended at her elbows.

She stood out from the other two. Slim with average female height, she stood out not for any prominent features, but due to her utter normal humanness. Yet her soft and light features were strikingly different from the angularity and sharpness of Vulcan traits.

While Xiu and Sarhal appeared restless and uncomfortable, respectively, Dr. Amanda Grayson at first appearance appeared inviting and calm. She stood straight and had a levelled gaze that met their eyes, and a small, unnecessary smile at her lips. Her open stance suggested an effort to appear amiable. But the way her hand, which was almost hidden in her skirts, flexed at her side was evident of an anxious tick.

However, she was the one who took an additional step forward and spoke with a smooth and even tone. _“T'nar pak sorat y'rani.”_

The two behind her repeated the Vulcan greeting, and the Vulcans replied with the custom, _“T’nar jaral.”_

Sarek stepped forward as well. “I am called Ambassador Sarek.” He gave a short nod to his colleague. “He is known as Velik. He is affiliated with the Federation’s research division as well.”

“Thank you for meeting with us.” She gestured to her convoy. “This is Havin Xiu, Aisha Sarhal, and I am Amanda Grayson.”

The members took their seats at the round table. The one known as Aisha Sarhal gently placed the briefcase on the table, while Amanda Grayson connected her PADD to the room’s system. Amanda’s neatly combed hair had distinguishable waves that covered the side of her face as she skimmed over the PADD. The Vulcans waited in silence, while the rest of the group seemed to be looking anywhere that wasn’t them.

The hologram projector at the center of the table lit up, indicating it was ready for operation. But Dr. Grayson instead placed the PADD screen down in front of her. Hands clasped on the table, she tilted her head as she met the eyes of Velik, then Sarek. The light brown of her eyes was further illuminated from the light.

Dr. Grayson sat up straighter, her index finger lightly tapping on the glass table. To a human, the sound was largely inaudible, but for a Vulcan, Sarek found it rather distracting. “I will try to keep this meeting concise. Have the two of you heard of the condition dyslexia?”

“I have not,” Sarek said. He had never heard of such affliction.

She nodded, a flicker of satisfaction crossing her face. Being a negotiator and having to interact with humans these past few years has allowed Sarek to recognize these emotional cues. It had proved invaluable in debating with her kind.

“ _Dyslexia_ is a latin term. _Dys_ meaning ‘difficult’, and lexia meaning ‘words.’ Thus, it quite literally means difficulty of words.

“It is a well-known learning disability typically characterized by difficulties with word and sound recognition, thus often leading to a disconnect between the two. This creates a challenge especially for children as they begin to learn how to read. They are unable to optimally benefit from typical learning environments. It is estimated that up to fifteen percent of Earth’s population are affected from dyslexia.”

Sarek shifted. Dr. Grayson’s eyes met his before she waved her hand and the projector streamed an image of the Earth with white, pulsing dots scattered on the land masses. “I am currently a children’s educator with a specialty in developmental psychology at the Federation Academy and have worked with both humans and other off-world species. I commonly run into signs of dyslexia across all conscious forms of life. Thus, it has been a goal of mine to find ways to treat dyslexia in a way that transcends the biological boundaries among species.”

“I was not aware the Academy accepted students that young.”

Dr. Grayson nodded at Sarek. “You are not wrong. But the children of Federation officials, Starfleet students, and diplomats are able to attend a separate learning institution under Starfleet’s name to receive general education.”

The hologram flashed and now varying structures hovered in front of them. Although each differed in size and morphology, it was clear these were the brains of different species.

The one known as Sarhal made a gesture, and the hologram zoomed onto the one in the middle – the human brain. “Dyslexia is neurobiological in nature.” She tapped a section of the holographic brain, and it illuminated in red. “Ultimately, the brain is unable to process the smallest units of speech, and thus is unable to differentiate between sounds. Recent research was able to pinpoint that the inferior parietotemporal lobe has the largest contribution in dyslexia. Specifically, this area has comparably less electrical activation of the neurons than those who do not have dyslexia. Research has found that almost every race has an equivalent of this lobe that we are able to target.”

The two women looked at the large man, Havin. Havin, however, appeared to be purposely avoiding eye contact with all the members of the room. He had an expression that Sarek could only place as _bored_.

Dr. Grayson let out a small, exasperated sigh that Sarek only picked up due to his hearing. She swiped the hologram away and addressed another question at Sarek and Velik. “So, what is the most direct solution?”

Sarek supposed it was the children educator in her that asks simple questions. He smoothly responded, “One must sufficiently provide neuron activation to this inferior parietotemporal lobe without causing an overstimulation that cause detrimental and irreversible harm. Furthermore, to ‘transcend races’ as you say, one must take into consideration the biological makeup and proportion of the specimen’s brain.”

Havin snorted, the first sound the male has made since his initial greeting. Dr. Grayson who had attempted to retain a neutral expression throughout the meeting, shot her companion a sharp look. Sarek wondered what the source of Havin’s amusement was.

“Well said,” Dr. Grayson responded brightly, as if the interruption never occurred. The female tucked her hair behind her ear, as she leaned over to grab the metal suitcase. She stood up and sat on the chair right beside Sarek. Without preamble, she flipped its lid open.

Inside was a small, rectangular device. The apparatus was covered in an outer layer of silver and had two lines of wires emitting from the base. Each wire was connected to temple nodes. Havin handed over a tiny sonic screwdriver. Dr. Grayson’s movements were precise as she opened the device up, revealing a compilation of wires intricately interwoven together.

She gently placed it closer to the two Vulcans. It appeared the wires had a diameter of approximately one standard centimeter. Sarek could not discern what material it was made out of, but only that it was not of Terran origin. Dr. Grayson turned the device on using a switch at its side, and a light emitted from beneath the layering of wires – likely originating from a hidden power source.

Dr. Grayson smoothed at her hair as she placed the nodes on her temples. Immediately, streaks of light pulsed throughout the length of the wires. For the first time in the meeting, Sarek leaned forward in interest, his dark eyes flickering across the device as he attempted to discern a recognizable pattern.

Rather than pulse across the whole diameter of the wire, the flickers of light streaked down its length. The closer Sarek looked, he realized the wire he thought was one was actually composited of perhaps hundreds. Finer than hair, they pulsed with an intricacy that was only seen in nature and biological design - not in a machine.

When Dr. Grayson spoke, the lights traveling along the wire sped up exponentially in response. “Right now, the instrument is simply measuring and mimicking my brain’s neural activity. More importantly, it is gathering a baseline and calculating the necessary neuron potential to reach sufficient excitation. This varies for every single individual, and this device is capable of measuring every single one.”

With her much closer, Sarek could see what he could her pupils were dilated. Her voice pitch had raised considerably, and the force of her tone had become more pronounced. This suggested excitement. At Vulcan, this would be judged as an inappropriate amount of emotion, but it seemed to only drive her speech. He imperceptibly shifted back.

“For a child with dyslexia, this device would produce a specific voltage that allows her neurons to meet the threshold potential, thus stimulating the target lobe and allowing the child to process the letters in front of her. The brain is a sticky thing, Ambassador. With sufficient ‘doses’ or treatment from this device, the child’s mind is able to retain and recall this stimulation, until it eventually is able to theoretically continue this excitation by itself.”

Velik’s deep voice cut in. “You are suggesting this device is training the brain to bolster its electrical activity.”

“Not suggesting.” Dr. Grayson leaned over the table to look past Sarek towards Velik. “Stating. I have worked at the Federation Academy for this past cycle, and worked with children ages 6-16, 92% of whom have shown improvement in reading with this device. Not just for children with dyslexia but for all. The device works, but there are some sufficient results that we lack. One being we are not sure whether the treatment is long lasting or wears off after a couple years.”

“This is a commendable invention,” began Sarek. Dr. Grayson’s eyes met his, and he found it inconvenient having to look down at her due to her shorter stature. “But I fail to find a correlation between this and the Vulcan embassy.”

Dr. Grayson pulled herself back up. She leaned back in her chair, her eyebrows slanting down as she looked at him. Unexpectedly, the energy that had propelled her in her speech seemed to become restrained. It didn’t go completely away however, as evident by the way she sat with chin up and her finger tapping on the surface of the table. She seemed to be appraising him, suggesting that she was mounting a defense. Or offense.

“What us humans call dyslexia, the Vulcans have another term for it.”

“On the contrary, Miss Grayson,” rumbled Velik. “We have no such affliction on our homeworld.”

Her light brown eyes fixed on Sarek's, as if daring him to lie. “I may be unfamiliar with Vulcan body cues, but something suggests that Ambassador Sarek knows otherwise.”

It was his turn to assess this female. She was too confident, but correct. Almost reluctantly, he relented,“ _L’tak terai._ A disability characterized with spatial and order dysphasia.”

“It’s _not_ a disability but -”

Velik cut across Dr. Grayson. “You are unaccustomed to Vulcan ailments. I actually have indeed heard of this disability Ambassador Sarek speaks of, but it is uncommon and not a source of concern for our people.”

Dr. Grayson took a deep breath, her voice sounding considerably strained as she attempted to level her voice. Sarek didn’t think she succeeded. “The Vulcan people are renowned for their intellect and high value on education. It would be no surprise then that having an ‘ailment’ that would suggests an incapability of learning upon an individual would be frowned upon and almost considered taboo in Vulcan society.”

She raised her hand to silence Velik, who stiffened beside Sarek. “I am not here to lecture on morals and prejudice, because as we know, humans are hardly the model species in that department. But I would imagine that personalized treatments are not being offered on Vulcan for an individual with this _l_ _’tak terai_ , nor is it really spoken about.”

“You are correct,” answered Sarek. There was almost relief in Dr. Grayson’s eyes. “But so is my colleague when he says that such afflictions are rare.”

Sarhal pulled out her PADD and offered it to Sarek. He took it and skimmed the data as the female unnecessarily explained its contents. “We gathered population information for races with similar brain functions as humans and sufficient hospital data from their homeworlds. This includes the Andorians, who also have telepathic abilities, and the Mintakans, a proto-Vulcan humanoid race. Across all races, 10-20% of them have a disorder analogous to dyslexia. Thus, it would not be out of bounds to suggest that Vulcans have similar rates.”

“These species hardly compare to the Vulcans, especially the Andorians and Mintakans,” Velik said. There was a sharpness to his tone that was unlike Sarek has heard before.

Dr. Grayson raised an eyebrow, not even making an effort to mask her disbelief. “Due to the taboo nature of _l_ _’tak terai_ , this would create an environment where Vulcan children who do have this disorder are not encouraged to seek treatment - that is, if there even are any offered. For these kids, their inability to make sense of letters is seen as a personal failure rather than a legitimate condition. This would cause an underestimate in the number of Vulcans who have _l_ _’tak terai,_ would it not?”

She pushed ahead preventing Sarek from answering her query. Curious on why she would ask in the first place then. “We had sent a request to the Vulcan Medical Institute for records of patients with _L’tak Terai_ , but they do not even have it listed as a possible diagnosis. It was only when we asked some of Vulcans’ Learning Centers that they sent us a vague reply that perhaps 5% of its students have shown such signs. But they also said that there was no such thing as a treatment for these kids, and that they simply carry on without any personalized instruction. There is a bias in this data and in treatment of _L’take Terai_ individuals.”

Her body still turned towards Sarek, Dr. Grayson placed her hands palm down on the table her eyes cast down. It was clear that she was gathering her thoughts, so Sarek waited.

“In short, we are proposing that you, as the Vulcan Ambassador, grant us permission to go to your homeworld for the next phase of experiments. Vulcans have a unique brain structure that is not well understood, at least for humans. But they share some structural similarities that would make this device applicable to the Vulcans.”

“Am I permitted to submit a query?”

Dr. Grayson blinked at him and nodded.

“You have stated that this device has high improvement rates and is functionable across species. Why is further testing needed?”

“Vulcan brains are like sponges.”

“Clarify.”

A smile briefly appeared on Dr. Grayson’s lips, but she explained, “Your people are able to absorb information much faster than any known species, as well as retain it for a longer period. We suspect that Vulcans with _l_ _’tak terai_ would require less treatments to show significant results. It would speed up the experimental process than if on Earth. Furthermore, emotions would not be as much of an extraneous variable in experiments as it would be for humans. The Vulcans would be considered as a control group, if you will. Lastly, the Vulcan language is considered to be one of the most difficult languages to read. It is fluid and does not have a precise alphabet like most languages, so if this device is able to sort out any confusion for _l_ _’tak terai_ individuals, then this device would be considered more effective than it is now.”

He gave a short nod. Her logic was sound. “However, there is still a lack of correlation that confounds me.”

“ _Clarify._ ”

Sarek did not know if that was meant to be a jest on her part, so he continued, “This is an admirable goal your team is setting to achieve, Dr. Grayson. It could have beneficial applications, but it is rare that the Federation concerns itself with such research that do not specifically relate to space exploration. I do not see how treating patients with such afflictions directly benefit the Federation.”

She glanced towards her colleagues, a strange look on her face that Sarek did not understand. The smile was gone, but she spoke steadily. “It wasn’t long after Havin and his team first designed the mechanics of this device that I realized this device could have greater applications.”

Dr. Grayson shifted uncomfortably as she leaned back. “We attended a xenolinguistics convention earlier this year celebrating the recent addition of the Universal Translator on all Starfleet ships. Currently, the UT is still in its early stages and is able to translate spoken languages. This is a great invention that has revolutionized Starfleet, but there is always room for improvement.”

Sarek raised his eyebrows and frowned. “You seek to make this device applicable to UT.”

“Yes. We are already considering ways that this device – which focuses on written language – would be able to translate any readings for Starfleet that they come across in space. Not only that, but even detecting patterns and using an algorithm to translate _new_ and unfamiliar languages.”

She raised her hands up. “And hell, even going so far as to applying this translating capability to the brain itself. This device is already capable of manipulating the words in front of the reader to make it coherent, so theoretically, it isn’t a stretch for it to possibly induce the brain into translating an unfamiliar language directly.

“When I sent a proposal to the Federation, they approved it, gave us a grant, and are encouraging us to accelerate the experiments to finish as soon as possible.” Dr. Grayson shrugged. “So, here we are. Vulcan would allow us to conduct experiments precisely and quickly. Furthermore, the city of Shi’Kahr offers one of the most prestigious xenolinguistic institutions, where we hope to ask its faculty and students for assistance. And of course, reach out to the Learning Center to work with students who might have _l_ _’tak terai._ ”

Shi’Kahr was his place of birth and the site of his family estate. And Sarek was well aware of the Vulcan Xenolinguistic Institute. His father was a renowned member, best known for translating _The Teachings of Surak_ into Standard language. It was a rather controversial decision that still carried disagreement today.

“Vulcan would benefit from hosting the experiments of this device as part of the Universal Translator project,” consented Velik. “However, I would suggest you relinquish this fixation you have towards _l_ _’tak terai_ _._ The Vulcan Academic Council would rightly not approve such unnecessities.”

“ _Well_ ,” Dr. Grayson said, putting an emphasis on the word. “I don’t need the Vulcan Academic Council’s approval.”

Her eyes flickered towards Sarek, as she leaned forward with her hand supporting her on the table. Sarek didn’t understand why humans needlessly do so to emphasize a point. He could hear just as well in both distances. “I only need Ambassador Sarek’s. As Ambassador, he is directly representative of Vulcan in Earth affairs. Although we are funded by the Federation, we are independent and do not need to jump through the usual bureaucratic red tape. This is my project, and my contract agrees that I make decisions on how we experiment and _what_ we experiment. And my primary concern is _l_ _’tak terai_ _.”_

Sarek could not comprehend her “fixation,” as Velik has - perhaps rightfully - designated it, on _l_ _’tak terai_ _._ The Academic Council would not approve, nor will most of the Vulcan people. However, she would not need the council’s approval if he said yes. Dr. Grayson was also correct in her assumption that mentioning of _l_ _’tak terai_ was frowned upon. Those with the ailments were inevitably seen as outcasts in society and incapable of contributing to knowledge, yet the implications of her instrument were too large to deny.

“I approve your proposal.”

Dr. Grayson could not seem to contain her smile as she beamed at him. It was much too inappropriate, especially with her at such a close distance. But she was human, after all.

He gestured to Sivad. “My assistant will handle future correspondence with you in regards to planning your team’s voyage to Vulcan, as well as necessary details for your proposed experiments. When do you plan on heading to Vulcan?”

“We will be ready in a month.”

Sarek nodded and stood. Dr. Grayson shot up quickly, her smile still on her face. Sarek mentally noted to send information to her team regarding Vulcan customs. “We cannot thank you enough, Ambassador Sarek. And you, Velik. We’ll note your suggestions for consideration.”

“I will keep up with your endeavors in Vulcan, Dr. Grayson. I expect to hear great results.”

The groups parted with the standard Vulcan salute, and the trio exited the room. Dr. Grayson shot the Vulcans one last smile before retreating.

Sarek heard the sharp clicks of her shoe wear, as well as the sound of celebratory exclamations and laughter, fading as the distance increased.

Finally, Velik let out a heavy sigh. “Let us hope the situation of our homeworld defuses by the time of their arrival. Humans treating Vulcan children – _that_ is hardly what we need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that was a LOT of science, but it is necessary to set the stage! I am trying to make this as canon as possible, so from henceforth, most places, things, objects, etc are canon and I do my research (memory alpha and beta wiki aha). Stuff like L'Tak Terai is canon. I'm also trying to make this a realistic love story between the two of them - since I don't think either are the type to just fall in love in two seconds.  
> My goal is to depict Sarek on how I see him, which is basically a combination of all three Sarek depictions l o l I think he is incredibly intelligent and controlled (obviously) but he's young and has dealt with humans for the past five years. So prepare yourselves for some snarkiness and serious shade as seen by Star Trek Discovery's Sarek - because he's an absolute bad bitch in that show.  
> If you want to know, I loved Winona Ryder as Amanda, especially the fiery streak in her as shown in her deleted scenes. I imagine she looks like her, young Mia Kirshner, and Linda Cardellini l o l 
> 
> I will be updating at least once a week. As a fair warning, this fic starts off kind of light but gets pretty intense. Of course, please comment! I love answering questions, so feel free to ask away <3


	2. The Theory of Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amanda's outfit from Pinterest: https://pin.it/1Ng9yKN  
> I imagine her casually wearing a scarf whenever she's outside in Vulcan to protect against the heat similarly like this: https://pin.it/3uIislE

_Theory of mind is the ability to attribute mental states — beliefs, intents, desires, emotions, knowledge, etc. — to oneself and to others. Theory of mind is necessary to understand that others have beliefs, desires, intentions, and perspectives that are different from one's own._

* * *

Regretfully, the situation regarding the Logic Extremists at Sarek’s homeworld have not yet defused. It had only escalated since Sarek first heard from his colleague, Velik, about Valkh and his bondmate Patar’s rise in influence.

Sarek did not know much about the pair. He was more familiar about Admiral Patar, who was known for her strict and often authoritarian style of leading on the Starfleet. She was efficient and factual, but her own colleagues have more than once reported her for crossing Starfleet regulations regarding her treatment of her fellow officers, specifically those of other species. Humans have been known to call her “cruel.” But to the people of Vulcan, she had been commended for her ability to remain levelled in times of stress and had brought enough achievements in her time in the Starfleet that had allowed her to become a commonly heard name.

Valkh, however, was more of an enigma. Sarek knew his family, another prominent group who had as many connections as they do\id family members. It was uncommon for Vulcan families to have more than one child, so six in total was especially unheard of. Valkh was the youngest of the six. From Sarek’s research, he found that Valkh had average scores in mathematics and science and seemed overall mediocre in Vulcan standards. Even as a politician, Sarek would likely not have been offered this position if he had such ratings during his time at the Vulcan Science Academy. So, Valkh's sudden ascent as one of the Ministers of High Command, who oversaw legislation of the Confederacy of Vulcan, was strange.

Sarek had little concerns about anti-human sentiment in the beginning. Ever since humans became warp-capable, there was always a sense of superiority among his people. Yet it was a quiet sentiment - not flaunted about or outwardly apparent.

But when news came a week ago that a human who had worked in the Earth Embassy on Vulcan had disappeared, he had concluded that there was more at hand.

Then three days ago, he had received news about the human's confirmed death. The Vulcan High Command then urged him to return back to Shi’Kahr as soon as he was able. He assumed he would participate in the legislative proceedings as the Vulcan Ambassador for Earth. So that morning, he had boarded the next available Federation passenger shuttle to Vulcan.

Sarek exhaled, his eyes opening and adjusting to the darkness that belonged to space. 

A flashing light alerted him of a received message. He swiped his PADD open, his slanted eyebrows more pronounced as they furrowed inward. He generally disliked relying on such tools and preferred relying on his own mind to recall and store information. However, as Ambassador, Sarek required a method of maintaining contact with other officials, especially those in Vulcan.

The High Command sent him photos of where the body of the human - Charles Lorel - was found. He was discovered naked in the library of the Xenolinguistics Institute four days after he was reported missing. Strung up like a puppet, Lorel was nailed onto the wall in a morbid fashion. A knife stabbed straight through the heart and embedded into the wall aided in supporting the body. The human’s iron-based blood pooled beneath the body, and the streaks of scarlet was striking on the man’s skin. Preliminary results have confirmed the body has been dead for less than two hours, suggesting that the culprit had initially kidnapped the man for a few days before disposing of him.

There was no clear rationale on why this man in particular was targeted. Lorel had an administrative role in the Earth Embassy’s Xenolinguistic Department, but he was not personally involved in any of the political aspects. He managed the data but himself had no actual access to its private contents. If the goal was to obtain protected information, the kidnapping of Lorel would not have accomplished anything.

Another aspect that troubled Sarek was the blatancy of it. It was hard to accept a Vulcan had committed such a crime. Logic could not be found in this death – not the theatrical imagery of the corpse’s placement, nor the choice of victim. But the knife is ancient and appears to be a family heirloom. No human would have been able to obtain such a revered item, much less understand the Vulcan script along the edge of the blade.

_Tilek svi'khaf-spol t'vathu - tilek svi'sha'veh._

_The spear in the Other’s heart is the spear in your own._

This is one of the more controversial lines for Vulcan historians. There has been conflict among Vulcan historians since its creation over its interpretation. _The Teachings of Surak_ promotes nonviolence and peace, while focusing on the achievement of controlling one’s emotions. Most Vulcans have chosen to see this verse in that light. Others, however, have managed to construe it to convey a sense of retribution.

Sarek closed the images, and the display informed him that only four hours remained before the shuttle would land on Vulcan. He allowed himself to be aware of the vague ache in his stomach and its accompanying feeling of hunger. Information has constantly been streaming to his PADD, and the more he is informed, the more time he needed to organize his thoughts by meditation. Therefore, he had been in his private chambers for the majority of the journey, and he had not eaten in 53 standard hours. It was likely that he would be expected to immediately proceed to the High Command as soon as he disembarked. If he was to have maximal brain function for their discussions, he will need sustenance.

* * *

The passenger shuttle was small compared to others of the Federation, the largest of which could carry a thousand passengers. Known as _Soval_ , the shuttle had only one common room with dozens of tables and seats, along with replicators. It was the only place where passengers could gather and eat.

Sarek entered the common space the same time Amanda Grayson’s team were departing. As he was up to date with their project's schedule and itinerary, he was not surprised to see them on this shuttle. Out of the one-hundred passengers, only they were non-Vulcans. The Vulcan Embassy had sent out a notice two weeks ago to all Federation personnel advising to abstain from non-essential travels to Vulcan.

They appeared to be in a jovial mood, yet their laughter ceased when they saw him. He only recognized Aisha Sarhal and Havin Xiu among them, and they nodded respectfully at him which he returned.

The common space had a decent amount of it filled, and he recognized Dr. Grayson near the entrance against the window. Two tables were shoved against one another, likely to accommodate the large size of her team, and she was returning them back to their original placements.

Sarek had not planned on their courses aligning, but this certainly made things more convenient.

“Dr. Grayson.”

She glanced up at him and straightened in surprise. “Ambassador. Please, call me Amanda. The rest of my team does.”

“Very well. Do you require assistance?” Sarek asked, placing his hands behind his back.

“No need,” she huffed. The table scraped into a halt, and she straightened, dusting her hands off. She cleared her throat, as she tucked a strand of her loose, dark brown hair behind her ear. “Would you like to sit?” she asked, gesturing to the chair across from her.

He nodded, and the two settled at the table. Amanda had her PADD open, and he could recognize schematics of her instrument on the display.

“I did not know you would be heading back to Vulcan with us, Ambassador. What brings you here on a passenger shuttle?”

“Typically, I take my own private ship, but that is currently on Vulcan under repairs.” He studied her. “The visible periorbital bruising suggests you are having issues with sleeping.”

She smiled as she swiped on her PADD's display. Snapshots of the device passed by until she settled on one that already had notes marked on it. “It’s not terrible. I’ve been only able to fall asleep for about three hours a time, but I sleep when my body can’t keep up. Suffice to say, my sleeping schedule is completely haywire. I’ve been in the common space for most of the time.”

She finally glanced up at him. “Thinking about it now, I haven’t seen you at all in these three days, and I’ve been here for most of the time at odd hours. What finally brought you out to the land of the living?”

“I assume you are proposing an analogy to the outside of my chambers. If so, I have not eaten in fifty-three standard hours and have thus required sufficient nutrition.”

“ _What?”_ Sarek did not recognize the expression on her face. Eyebrows furrowed, lips parted in surprise, eyes wide. “Are you alright? That cannot be healthy.”

“‘Alright’ has variable definitions and is unacceptable. Furthermore, Vulcans are able to undergo days without food and still retain basic functions. However, the brain still requires nutrients to work at maximum efficiency.”

“Please, go ahead and get something to eat. You are more than welcome to join me if you’d like.”

Sarek paused, considering a response. He had come to her to simply update her on Vulcan’s situation and planned on moving elsewhere to eat. He was never comfortable with unnecessary small talk.

Perhaps sensing his hesitation, she gave a small smile and held up her PADD. “Of course, it is only an invitation. I’ll be working in the meanwhile, anyways.”

“I will join you momentarily.” He promptly headed towards the replicators.

The power supply of her device was magnified on her PADD display when he returned. He sat down and placed his bowl on the table.

“What have you been up to then, besides not eating?”

“I have been meditating. The situation at Vulcan is ever-changing and requires much thought. In fact, it is the reason for my return to my home world and why I have approached you. As the official who had approved your project’s presence in Vulcan, I consider your team to be my responsibility. Therefore, I would not like to hide any information that would render your people unprepared.”

She frowned and looked up. “I see.”

Before Sarek continued, he stiffened and looked to his side. A Vulcan sitting a few tables down smoothly looked away.

Only then did Sarek continue. “I had previously sent a message to you advising your team to delay the experiments due to the news that an Earth Embassy employee – a human – had been reported missing during these tumultuous times. I received a transmission two hours before this shuttle’s departure that this man was found deceased due to unnatural causes.”

Amanda stared at him, her disbelief evident. “You suspect a Vulcan killed him?”

“I do not suspect anything, nor rely on assumptions. But a Vulcan knife was found to be the weapon of cause.”

The corners of her mouth tipped down. “I thought Vulcans are a nonviolent race.”

“Generally, we are, but we are not incapable of it either. These Logic Extremists are a small faction, but lately they have gained momentum.”

“’Logic Extremists’,” Amanda repeated. “Do you know why now?”

“I presume it is due to the re-ratification of the Articles of Association that binds us to the Federation. The High Command of the Confederacy of Vulcan approves it every twenty years, and its proceedings begin in a few weeks..”

“Why are these extremists against humans and the Federation?”

Sarek regarded her, as he found this part of the conversation rather unfortunate. He shifted back very slightly. “They view humans as inferior and do not agree with working along them and sharing aspects of Vulcan technology. They particularly are opposed to human involvement in Vulcan culture.”

Amanda simply snorted.

The ambassador cocked his head. “You find this humorous?”

“Yes.” She paused and looked up. “Well, no. This is all terrible. I just cannot believe how _awkward_ it is.”

Sarek didn’t look away and spoke carefully. “I apologize. I can see how this topic could be considered insulting.”

“No, no,” quickly amended Amanda. “It’s just I thought about what these extremists would likely think of _me_ and my team.” She waved her hands, and Sarek watched intently as he attempted to decipher the random movements’ meaning. “We’re coming from Earth with our technology which we plan to use on Vulcan children, all the while addressing the taboo _L’tak Terai_. They would not be pleased.”

“That conclusion is illogical. We cannot presume what their thoughts on you would be based on expectations.”

“Prejudice is illogical.”

“That is correct. It is indeed _unfortunate_ that your team had not followed my recommendation to reschedule your time on Vulcan.”

He had intended for his rather pointed, flat way he spoke and unwavering gaze to suggest a bit of reproach. As soon as he was informed of the human’s initial disappearance a week ago, it had prompted Sarek to immediately reach out to Project XL-4729, which is under Dr. Amanda Grayson’s command. His assistant, Savid, had been in charge of corresponding with the group, allowing Sarek to concern himself with more political affairs. But he had concluded that due to the nature of this message, it had to come from him. In the message, he advised her team to postpone their trip to Vulcan, and thus their experiments. The situation at Vulcan is new but growing. As her team is under his responsibility, he could not let them continue without consideration of this.

However, Amanda had responded within sixteen minutes after he sent the message. While he appreciated her promptness, he was unconvinced that her team spent much time considering the facts.

> _Ambassador Sarek,_
> 
> _I am sorry to hear that here are tensions existing between yours and my people, and my team and I are taking your considerations seriously. After discussing possible alternatives to coming to Vulcan at this time, we all came to a consensus that postponing the experiment would not be feasible. As we have spent the past three weeks since your approval preparing for such the journey, most of the details of our experiments are already prepared – both in Earth and Vulcan. We are supposed to depart in four days, after all. To undo such efforts would be a waste, something the Federation has already pressed upon to minimalize._
> 
> _Therefore, we would like to continue as planned. We’ll take great efforts to be conscious of the political and societal environment in Vulcan._
> 
> _Best regards,_
> 
> _Dr. Amanda Grayson_

Sarek currently did not detect an ounce of shame on her expression. Instead, Amanda lightly sipped her tea, and then looked pointedly at his meal. “Your soup is getting cold.”

Amanda was correct about that, but her evading tactic did not go unnoticed. It was a clear dismissal in the topic, so he instead inquired, “What reasons do you have for your incapability to sleep?”

Amanda smiled, though he did not know what was amusing about his question. “I’m not a fan of space travel. The last time I did, it did not go well. It makes it hard for me to sleep here.”

“You speak of the engine failure and the consequential emergency crash landing on your trip to Naussica from five Earth revolutions ago,” clarified Sarek.

The human stared at him, and he mentally checked if he made an error. As he affirmed that no, he did not make a mistake, she asked, “How did you know that?”

“I read your file in preparation for our initial meeting.”

She laughed. It was light and rang in the air. “My file? I didn’t even now I have a file. But yes, point being is that travel makes me nervous. I just keep remembering that feeling of my stomach dropping – ”

“That is illogical,” Sarek said simply. “One outlying event carries no hold on future events.”

Amanda gave a small shrug. “Tell that to my dreams.”

“You are afraid of space travel, yet you sit by the window,” he noted.

She looked out behind her, and the blue and white light of the warp field washed over her face. “Space is empty, terrifying, and beautiful all at once. It’s awe-inspiring, and I’m not afraid of space itself.” She turned back, grimacing. “It’s just from personal experience and all the stories I hear of shuttle high-jacking and battles and so on – it is the uncertainty that I fear most, I suppose.”

An unexpectedly contemplative answer.

“Are you afraid of anything, Ambassador?”

“The emotion of fear is illogical. An inanimate object or phenomenon has no tangible hold on a person. Furthermore, each individual often has a unique ‘fear’ that is often not shared with others of its kind. Thus, it is not applicable to every specimen, and has no reason for existing.”

“Okay,” Amanda nodded seriously. “But you still have not answered my question.”

Sarek felt a flicker of amusement. “As a child, I once had an unreasonable discomfort toward _sehlats_.”

Amanda’s eyebrows furrowed, so he went on further to explain. “Sehlats are common in the woods near my family’s estate. Wild sehlats are omnivores and capable of growing up to three meters. They are known to be aggressive in times of starvation.”

“You _once_ were afraid? What made it stop?”

“My father gave one to me to domesticate.”

A smile broke out on her face, and she laughed in disbelief. “Your father gave you a three-meter aggressive meat-eating sehlat?”

“As I have said,” nodded Sarek. “It was revealed to me that fear is illogical, and the only way to master fear is to educate oneself and understand it.”

“Who knew logic could be so poetic?”

“Vulcans do have high esteem for poetry.”

She stared at him. “You know what? I’m not even surprised. I suppose next time, I’ll just jump out of a tall building and get my fear out of the way.”

Sarek raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps with proper planning and safety implementations.”

"Of course," she laughed and glanced down at his bowl. “So what are you eating now?”

“Plomeek soup.”

She leaned over to look, so he clarified, “Plomeek is a flowering vegetation commonly used in Vulcan cuisine and is native to my place of birth.”

“And where is that?”

“My family estate is located on the outskirts of ShiKahr.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So, your hometown - this place with wild and aggressive sehlats – is the one we are heading to.”

“Yes.”

“Wonderful.” Amanda leaned back and rubbed her temples, letting out a small sigh. She is tired, yet strangely does not seek sleep. “It must be nice though. You must miss your home.”

Sarek pushed down his discomfort as he thought of what awaited him. “To miss a place is unreasonable. To yearn for it is unnecessary.”

“How long has it been since you’ve last been to Vulcan?”

“Not since I accepted my Ambassador position, which was five Earth revolutions ago.”

“What is the first thing you will do when we land?”

“Disembark.”

She squinted at him. “Was that a joke?”

“No.”

A pause. “Okay, then after?”

“I will speak to the Vulcan High Command regarding the recent death of the human and the upcoming debates over the Federation Charter.”

“Is it likely you’ll participate in the debates?”

“I expect the Council will request I represent Earth in the matter.”

Her brown eyes met his in surprise. “That must be extremely stressful. And strange.”

“Clarify.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Does it ever feel strange having to represent and surround yourself with a whole different race? It must not always be easy.”

Sarek contemplated. It is rare he ever allowed himself to think about such things. “My role as ambassador should not be influenced by personal thoughts. It is my duty to speak not for myself but for the Vulcan people. And humans when the time requires.”

Amanda smiled. “You know what I just realized? You’re very good at side-stepping a question.”

Sarek raised an eyebrow.

She laughed. “But in reply, I will say that I don’t think I would be able to separate my personal beliefs from my work. I am my work, and I can’t imagine it otherwise.”

“You are, after all, human,” agreed Sarek, though not unkindly.

“Exactly.”

They fell into a mutual silence. Sarek had finished his meal, but he permitted himself to take the time to free his mind from the labyrinth of politics. Amanda was once more bent over her PADD. If she continued to sit in such a way, it would prove to be detrimental to the lumbar region.

It was Sarek who was the first to speak. “May I ask a personal query?”

She sat up in surprise, or, more likely, to relieve the tension from her poor posture. “Go ahead.”

“You state that your personal thoughts influence your work, so the logical thing to ask is how so and to what extent?”

She cocked her head, and he had the impression that she was assessing him. “You said you have read my file?”

“Correct.”

“Did you notice anything strange about my education?”

He reflected. At twenty-four years of age, Amanda was rather young to be leading her own project at this scale, but the Federation has been known to accelerate certain individuals' careers based off of a _feeling_ rather than experience - another way Vulcan differed with Earth. “You received your degree two years earlier than the average human. However, you also repeated a school cycle at age seven.”

She gave a lopsided grin. “I _failed_ my second year of school. Can you imagine? How do you even fail a seven year-old? All because I lacked the proper support when my teacher realized I couldn’t make sense of the letters in front of me.”

For once, Sarek was taken aback. “You have L’tak Telai.”

“Dyslexia, yes.” She waved her hand around abstractly. “I was able to problem solve and do all the normal things the other kids to do, but I was having trouble visually processing words. The issue of the education system is that educators expect children to just conform without individualized instruction. They aim to ‘fix’ the child, but they do not realize that there is nothing to fix.”

“Clarify.”

“Well, I mean,” Amanda started, crossing her arms on the tabletop. She leaned forward, her contemplative eyes on his soup. “- Who’s right to say that just because the way a person’s brain functions is different, then that person is in the wrong? Every mind is different and do not perform or act the same way. It’s like approaching a puzzle: there are different ways to solve it, and while there may be more common and popular ways, each method leads to the same goal. There is not a right or wrong way, and to attempt to get rid of dyslexia is futile.”

“Is that not what you are hoping to achieve with your device?”

Amanda shook her head. Similar to their initial meeting, Sarek could see the emotion showing through. Dilated pupils and red cheeks. Elevated breathing. He could see what she meant about her emotions guiding her work. “No, not at all. In fact, we are trying to _bolster_ dyslexic effects. A dyslexic child is typically able to make sense of most of the letters, but not all. Some innately get switched in her head or so on. By increasing the electrical activity of that part of the brain, we are stimulating the brain to treat all letters the same way. The way we process words may be different, but it works just as well when at full potential.”

He nodded thoughtfully. A unique approach. “It is more attainable to increase function than to eliminate.”

“Exactly. Most people see this as a disability, which implies a need to get rid of it.”

“If the affliction impedes an individual from gaining knowledge, would that not be the definition of learning disability?” countered Sarek.

“You see, a child with dyslexia – or L’tak Terai – is able to process information just as well as anybody else. Me, for example. Do you think my intelligence is compromised from my dyslexia?”

“I believe your intelligence is sound.”

“Thank you.”

“It was not intended to be a compliment.”

Before the conversation could continue, a voice spoke over the ship’s coms. _“All non-Vulcan passengers, please head to the medical bay to receive tri-ox treatment in preparation for arrival.”_

“Oh, shoot. I didn’t realize we would be landing so soon.” Amanda stood and shoved her PADD in her bag. Sarek stood as well, and she smiled up at him. “Well, Ambassador, I’ll likely run into you when we disembark, so I’ll see you then.”

He nodded. “That is likely.”

She waved and rushed out, her bag swinging behind her. 

Sarek retreated back to his chambers to prepare. Afterwards, he did what he usually does when time allows: he meditated.

* * *

" _Forty minutes until final descent. Please prepare to strap in._ ”

Sarek opened his eyes. He looked outside his window and, despite what he had said to Amanda, acknowledged the feeling of pleasure he felt at seeing his homeworld. From space, Vulcan could only be described by its vibrant shades of red and orange. Sarek could already see Eridani A’s rays spilling over the curvature of the planet. He had spent far too much time in the cold, wet environment of San Francisco.

A fluctuating light emitting from his PADD caught his attention and notified him of a new message.

Two minutes later, he briskly walked out of his chambers. Before he reached the medical bay, he recognized Aisha Sarhal. “What is the current location of Dr. Grayson?”

The female’s blue glass eye rotated towards him. “Amanda? She is at the ship’s loading docks to check over the lab equipment.”

Passenger shuttles typically have a dual role that also included the transportation of Federation property. Thus, the docks composed half of the whole shuttle. Sensitive materials such as lab equipment were typically on the second level. Sarek methodically went through the aisles, starting based on where she’d likely be. 

Sarek recognized her slim and shorter stature. She appeared to have changed her attire in preparation for Vulcan’s more abrasive heat. She wore wide-legged trousers and a loose long-sleeved shirt that was tucked into her waistband, both of which seemed to be made of thin white material. A white scarf was loosely wrapped around her head and across her shoulders. He could see strands of her dark hair falling around her face as she stood and looked over her PADD.

“Dr. Grayson.”

“Amanda,” she immediately corrected, not even looking up. She read the tag on the package in front of her, tapped quickly on her PADD, and moved over. Her movements were quick, precise, and quite focused.

“Amanda,” Sarek amended. The English name felt strange on his tongue. “I must inform you of a change regarding your team’s presence in Vulcan.”

She met his eyes, sighing exasperatedly. He had to look down at her, as she didn’t even reach his chin.

“Alright. Talk as I do this.” Amanda swiftly moved to the next container, never ceasing in her typing. 

“I have just now been informed from the investigation committee in Vulcan regarding the death of Charles Lorel – ”

“The human?” She took another step, and he mirrored her.

“Indeed. Another two employees of the Earth Embassy were found dismembered much like Lorel.”

“Dismembered? _”_ Her voice was incredulous, and she briefly glanced up at him.

“All three humans were found in a morbid, theatrical display with Vulcan knives containing scriptures of Surak’s teachings. They were nailed against walls of academic institutions naked and - ”

“Okay, okay,” she interrupted. She quickly walked to the next aisle, and he pursued. A voice on the coms came on announcing passengers to prepare for final descent, but neither of them acknowledged it. “That is terrible and horrifying, but what does that have to do with the project?”

“I have come to the conclusion that it is no longer safe for humans to travel to Vulcan –”

“No.”

“- And am thus requesting your team abstain from future experiments and return to Earth.”

“Request denied.”

Amanda’s flat and abrupt response momentarily rendered him speechless. She had ceded her movements and raised her eyebrow.

Sarek opened his mouth to respond, but a man wearing a Starfleet badge appeared beside them. The official did not comment on the clear tension between the two, but instead nodded his head respectfully at Sarek. “Ambassador. Ma’am. We are about to begin descent, so please strap in over here.”

The pair followed the official and continued their discussion in sharp, lower voices.

“Your response is illogical, which is likely credited to the insufficient amount of time you utilized to make your decision.”

“ _You’re_ illogical to think that I will call this whole thing off after weeks of preparation just because you say so. You're not even my boss.”

They reached the seats that were built onto the walls of the loading docks. Long horizontal windows revealed the incoming planet. Sarek turned to Amanda. “As ambassador, it is my obligation to ensure the safety of -”

“As ambassador, it is your obligation to represent Vulcan decisions while on Earth. Not to oversee Federation research.”

The official once more interrupted, albeit a bit more forcefully. “I request that the two of you take your seats.”

Amanda sat straight down and began to buckle herself in. Sarek followed suit beside her.

“Dr. Grayson -”

“Amanda,” she snapped, finally whipping around to look at him.

Undaunted by her hostility, Sarek continued, “Amanda. As it was my decision that ultimately led to the approval of your presence on Vulcan, I cannot support your refusal to bring your team back to Earth. This stubbornness and ignorance will - ”

“ _Ignorance?”_

“- prove harmful to your team. It is clear that humans are no longer safe in Shi’Kahr, and you should speak to your team to ensure -”

“My team is very much aware of the situation, Ambassador,” she said sharply. “Ever since you first warned me about hostilities, I talked to each person individually and stressed the dangers that could arise. And I did so again when you talked to me a few days ago. They are just as adamant to continue as I am now. And I see no reason - ” She gasped and clutched onto the armrests as the shuttle unexpectedly dropped. “Ah, _shit._ ”

Sarek glanced out the window beside them. All he could see was the red of Vulcan’s deserts. “There is no reason for alarm. We have begun the descent.”

“I am aware.” Her voice was unusually high-pitched.

“Passenger shuttles only have a malfunction rate of 4.3% during descent, and each is equipped with precautionary measures in the event of an emergency. For example, if engine failure were to occur - ”

“ _Sarek.”_

Sarek paused at hearing his name from her. He looked at the human, who had her eyes were cast upwards, and the back of her head was resting against the window. The light that was reflecting off the planet washed her with red. “Yes?”

“Please shut up.”

He fell silent.

However, every time the shuttle jerked or dropped – which occurred quite often – Amanda would inhale sharply and, if possible, hold onto the armrest even tighter. Sarek observed her knuckles were bone white, and her breathing was loud and unsteady.

“Close your eyes,” Sarek instructed. To his relief, she immediately did. “Control your breathing. Typically, in the Vulcan meditation technique known as _Keethera_ , we recite lines to build control and maintain focus.”

The shuttle jostled again, and Amanda’s hand flew to the seat’s restraints. Her voice was still high but more levelled. “What are they?”

“Clarify.”

“The lines.”

Having remembered the verses at a young age, he spoke smoothly in Vulcan first before translating in English.

_“Structure. Logic. Function. Control. The structure cannot stand without a foundation. Logic is the foundation of function. Function is the essence of control. I am in control. I am in control.”_

When Amanda spoke, she sounded significantly more like herself. “Keep going.”

“I do not understand.”

“Just keep talking. About anything.”

So Sarek delved into the purpose and history of the _Keethera_. The precise procedure and the meaning of each step. How it relates to _The Teachings of Surak_.

He spoke up until the moment the shuttle touched Vulcan soil. Compared to the rest of the descent, the landing is always a lot more gentle. A small shudder throughout the vehicle, and then all movement and noise stills.

Amanda cracked an eye open. “That’s it?”

“That is it.”

He waited for her breathing to steady out. Humans naturally have a quicker resting breathing rate than Vulcans.

When she reached eighteen breaths per minute, Amanda abruptly threw off her restraints and stood up.

She appeared to sway for a second, and Sarek was already constructing possible routes to the medical bay. However, she pushed on ahead towards the loading dock’s doors. Most of the passengers will exit from the main doors at the other end of the shuttle, but the two were already here. Shuttle workers were already appearing and shouting orders about unloading the cargo. He patiently weaved through the chaos until he saw her form. 

With a hint of logical caution, Sarek joined beside her. They stopped in front of the closed gates – which comprised of a single whole wall of the shuttle itself – and waited. It seemed that Amanda was more of herself and significantly calmer.

So strange how humans undergo such violent spells of emotion and then continue on as if nothing happened.

A loud hiss emitted from the gates followed by a loud groaning of steel. The wall detached itself from the ship and fell outward to hit Vulcan ground. A wave of hot, dry air hit Sarek’s face and caused his and Amanda’s clothing to briefly ripple behind them. The two paused and took in the orange sky and red ground. The heat caused the air to ripple and the farther one looked back, the harder it was to tell where they sky met the ground.

It wasn’t until their clothes fell back into place that Amanda spoke carefully and softly, different from the sharpness before. “I appreciate your concern on the matter, Ambassador. Truly. But even if I had agreed to go back to Earth, our work visas would not allow it. We’d have to reapply which would take time. Furthermore, the Federation had been very clear on their conditions.”

“What are their constraints?” Her thin white scarf had been blown back from its original placement revealing her braid.

She met his gaze, troubled. “The Federation is very insistent that there will be no delays. This device is under my name and management, and I had accepted their grant as it provided more resources and options. But it has been made to me very clearly that if I do not make significant progress within the end of the year, they will take it away from me and my team – per Federation policies. As their goals are different from mine, I do not wish for that to occur.”

In Vulcan, if the Science Council ordered a change in management, very little opposed to the ruling. As these decisions are made by considering facts and efficiency, it would be illogical to object. Yet Sarek recalled the strange passion Amanda spoke of her goals and reasoning, and he had no doubt that she would lead the experiments efficiently. Thus, he could only assume the Federation was trying to get a hold on her device and eliminate her from the equation. 

“As you have rejected my request,” he started. He noticed Amanda was trying not to smile. “I will make another one.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Your team will mainly be concentrated at the Learning Center, which is away from Federation, the United Earth Embassy, and their protection. I can ensure your people will be given a small security detail as you work.”

Amanda chuckled and reached up to secure her scarf once more. She turned to him and mused, “Well, I suppose that would be illogical to refuse.”

“Very much so.”

The two descended down the platform onto the firm ground covered in a thin layer of fine, red sand. The dry, hot breeze swirled up red dust, which were once more kicked up in the flurry of movements from the workers.

“When do your companions plan to begin your trials?” Sarek inquired.

Amanda, who was fanning herself with her hand, had stopped to look upwards in amazement. The planets of the Eridani A system were much closer together than compared to Amanda’s Sol system. Currently, the icy Delta Vega covered over half the sky.

“Huh?” Amanda shook her head. “Oh, we plan to begin setting up our office space at the Earth Embassy tomorrow, and then head to the Learning Center the day after.”

“It is my estimate the security team will be prepared in two days’ time.”

“Thank you, and I’m sorry I -”

“Ambassador Sarek.”

The two turned to see a young Vulcan male behind them. Similar to Sarek, the Vulcan had his hands band his back and carried an impassive expression. He did not address nor glanced at Amanda. “I am Sepir. The Command has sent me to ask for your presence at the chambers. We have a hovercar waiting for you.”

Sarek nodded.

Sepir looked at him expectantly. A pause passed before Sepir seemed to finally notice Amanda. Looking significantly more unsure than before, he turned on his heels and headed towards the car.

Amanda had cracked a smile when he turned back to her.

“What is amusing?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen an intimidated Vulcan before.”

“It was not my intention to do so. The fault is his if he is unable to realize that the fear is of his own making and unacceptable for a Vulcan.”

She chuckled and took a step back. “Well, I’ll let you get to it. I have to go find my people as well. What’re the chances we’ll see each other again - with you representing all of Earth and all that?”

“High, considering I will be there to ensure the security team is aware of proper protocols.”

Amanda nodded and gave him the Vulcan salute, which he responded in turn.

“ _Dif-tor heh smusma.”_

“Peace and long life,” she replied.

Once seated in the hovercar, Sarek looked out the window and felt the familiar heat against his face. The vehicle flew by Amanda, who met his eyes and gave a short wave, causing her white clothes to ripple once more. Soon, she was just a figure of white in a sea of red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally had two chapters focused on the flight, but I felt that the first one had no real importance to the story - so I just sort of mashed the two together!


	3. The Incongruity Theory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amanda's outfit: https://pin.it/2drlnIP  
> (Note: I try not to go too much in depth on their clothing in the story itself because I feel it detracts from the serious parts of the story if I spend paragraphs describing clothes loll)

_The Incongruity Theory is based on the idea that our curiosity is motivated when we're presented with something that doesn't fit into our understanding of the world._

* * *

No one had asked, but Amanda would just like to say that planning the logistics for a six-month research project in the span of four weeks was the most stressful thing she had undergone – except maybe writing her thesis paper. Acquiring all of their equipment, obtaining off-world visas, and dealing with mountains of interstellar bureaucracy was bad enough. But being on Earth and having to deal with _Vulcans_ while sixteen lightyears away felt near damn impossible.

Initially, Amanda had thought their bluntness and lack of niceties were almost endearing. It reminded her of the kids she often worked with – they simply were not aware of the human societal rules. Sure, Vulcans were insanely intelligent, but their unhindered and _logical_ responses can be quite amusing.

But if _one more_ Vulcan says “illogical” to her one more time, she will kick them.

Suffice to say, the initial wonder of talking to an alien race had quickly worn off. Amanda knew that mixing herself into the Vulcan’s revered world of education was going to receive some skepticism. Within an hour after getting Ambassador Sarek’s approval on Earth, she was put into contact with the staff at the Vulcan Learning Center. The Vulcans were forwarded the project’s files immediately, giving them ample time to dissect the protocols, schematics of the device, and even the damn font. While many of their comments had proved useful – especially regarding adjustments that had to be made to the device to suit Vulcan physiology – most of it was just a barrage of corrections that she thought were unnecessary and insignificant.

When Amanda had _nicely_ told Sonak, who would become her Vulcan correspondent, he had wordlessly hung up.

It was humbling to know that Vulcans can be just as petty.

Dealing with the Vulcan educators in person was even worse. Now that she was here and the project was actually going to happen, they appeared keen to test her capabilities. It wasn’t long until she found herself debating with Sonak on the societal implications of L’tak Terai’s stigma. She rather enjoyed these talks and found them “mentally stimulating” as they say, but once they switched their focuses to the design of the device, she would clock out and find Havin, who was more than ready to defend his baby.

Amanda learned from them, and even from her brief encounters with Ambassador Sarek, that following the logic philosophy does not necessarily mean relinquish all personality – not that she would risk offending them by telling them that. For instance, when she had to call with any logisictal questions, she preferred calling T’Lar instead of Kuvak. Amanda had decided she would trust T’Lar to make all of her life decisions for her, while Kuvak can go leave his insufferable haughty words at the door.

Her conversations with Sarek were especially informative. While he was mostly impassive – more so than the other Vulcans she had interacted with – he still had a sharpness that made her just feel his disapproval. She supposed it went a long way to be ambassador.

The Learning Center itself was a labyrinth of skill domes embedded in the floors. Earlier this morning, the educators had briefly taught her how to handle the program’s algorithms to manipulate the lessons.

The tablet was incredibly complex and specific. She could access all of the information from the Vulcan and Federation Archive for testing and look at the data of each pupil, which included rate of response, scores, and even level of voice inflection – a measurement of emotion restraint, explained one of the teachers.

Amanda had looked at Havin with the tablet in her hand and saw white lights flashing in her vision. “Is it bad I feel like a god?”

“ _Yes._ ”

The protocol states that each student with L’Tak Terai will undergo neuron stimulation using the device once a week. Twice a week, their skills will be assessed in the skill domes using specifically designed reading tests. Her team only needed to be at the Learning Center twice a week, and the rest they will be at the Earth Embassy to analyze data and other necessary office work.

Per Federation guidelines, any experimentation must be done with the consent of the patient. The children she will be working with – thirty in total – had parent approval. Amanda had never talked to the parents, not even through telecommunications, as the Vulcan faculty believed it was better for them to explain it themselves. She understood, knowing the parents likely wouldn’t have agreed if she didn’t have Ambassador Sarek or the Learning Center’s support.

But every research project begins with a debriefing. So, today she met with each student for ten minutes each – all together five hours – and she absolutely adored them all. Though, she knew that they likely did not share the same amount of fondness after only meeting for ten minutes.

They were exactly how she imagined, but not. Appearance wise, they looked like miniature adult Vulcans. Same haircut, eyebrows, strict clothing, and analytical gaze. They were all mainly quiet, yet she assumed by how they stared that they haven’t seen many humans up-close before – much less talk to them. But it was clear that they have not yet completely embodied the logic philosophy. One of the girls informed her it took years of discipline to fully embrace Surak’s teachings.

The little ones were as young as six years old. This would be their second year at the Learning Center. Parents are expected to ensure their child was capable of reading Vulcan at this age, and they would begin learning Federation Standard at the Learning Center. Although only half of the school year had passed, they were already able to hold a conversation with her in Standard. The younger ones, she noticed, got more distracted easily and asked more questions, especially about humans.

Currently, Amanda was speaking to a seven-year-old boy, Haavok. For every child, she spent approximately three minutes to introduce herself and explain the experiment. They all sat with perfect posture and a seriousness that Amanda found completely charming. Overall, Amanda didn’t hold back on the more difficult concepts and phrases of the project. The older kids barely batted an eye at her explanations, while the younger kids eagerly absorbed her words.

“- And by stimulating the inferior parietotemporal lobe –”

“Clarify.”

Amanda bit her lip to prevent herself from grinning. She herself had first proposed to ensure the Vulcan children were not thrown off by an open, human demeanor. It was not her place nor wish to confuse them by exposing them to how human’s handled emotions. Although she was distinctly human, as seen by her very human features and clothing, she wasn’t here to upheave the Vulcan way of life for these kids.

She smoothly responded, “The inferior parietotemporal lobe is the region of the brain that is involved in processing the printed forms of words. By applying a certain amount of potential, we are able to increase the activity of this lobe to increase function. Any questions?”

“Are you human?”

“Yes.”

“What was your mode of transportation?”

“ _Clarify._ Vulcan or Learning Center?”

“Vulcan.”

“A Federation Kelvin-Type shuttlecraft with limited warp-three capabilities.”

“What planets have you been to?”

“Earth and Vulcan.”

“What is your age?”

“Twenty-four years old.”

This child shot out questions in rapid fire, and Amanda was quick to answer every single one. Eventually, the one-minute warning popped up, which only seemed to spur on Haavok even more.

“Are you bonded?”

“Married? No.”

“Do you have a pet?”

“No, but I had two gerbils and two dogs growing up.”

“What are gerbils?”

“A tiny rodent mammal.”

“What happened to them?”

“One ate the other, which was a complete shock for me by the way. Apparently, gerbils are very territorial.”

A _ding_ went off, signaling the end of their session.

“It’s been an absolute pleasure speaking with you, Haavok.”

“‘Absolute pleasure’ is not absolute at all, as pleasure is relative to the speaker.”

They really do teach them young, don’t they?

A deep, steady voice from behind her spoke deliberately before she could. “We can forgive Dr. Grayson for her choice of words. Humans tend to favor extreme connotations to convey their messages.”

Amanda turned around in her seat with an eyebrow raised. “And we can forgive Ambassador Sarek for first not making us aware of his arrival.”

Perhaps unsure of what was expected of him during this interaction, Haavok spoke. “May I submit a final query?”

“Of course.”

“Are you going to teach here from now on?”

“If it is alright with you, I will stay until the end of these trials, which are scheduled to last for six standard months.”

Haavok gave a short nod.

She allowed a small smile. “Brilliant.”

“ _Romhalan_.”

The child stopped by Ambassador Sarek and gave him the more formal farewell. “ _Dif-tor heh smusma._ ”

As soon as Haavok left, Amanda stood up and stretched her arms. “That was fun.”

She turned towards Sarek. He was dressed as formal as ever in russet red robes that announced his status as ambassador. However, they appeared lighter in weight now that they weren’t in the coldness of space or San Francisco.

“Sonak has informed me you have met with each participant. Is that not unnecessary and time consuming?”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Sonak says a lot of things. What else did he have to say?”

His dark eyes were as piercing as ever but also had a brightness to them. If he was human, she would have thought Sarek looked amused. “He has informed me your team have acclimated quickly to the Learning Center protocols. However, there was a comment of concern about one of your members having a ‘possible egotistical inclination from feeling god-like.’ He had suggested future examination for mental stability may be needed.”

Amanda felt a desire to kick Sonak, but she smoothly responded, “Nothing to be worried about. We like to joke.” 

“Humans are indeed fond of analogies. I informed him I do not believe concern is necessary.”

She gave a short laugh and picked up her PADD as she walked over. “Well, what brings me the honor of having the Ambassador in my presence?”

“I am here to introduce you to your security team.”

They exited the conference room and headed to the turbolift.

“Do you believe you are acclimated?”

“With the kids?”

“Yes. And Vulcan.”

After having spoken with Sarek previously, Amanda felt little urge to hold back her smile. She figured if he had an issue with it, he would’ve said it outright. Vulcans did not refrain from speaking their opinions, as she had quickly learned. “Everything feels so surreal. I woke up early these past two days to watch the sun rise – and the planets. It’s beautiful and -” She shook her head. “It’s just amazing. The kids, as well. They are each so incredibly brilliant. And curious.”

“Children in Vulcan are encouraged to ask questions. We believe the beginning of life is the most important time to establish a respect for knowledge.”

“I’ve noticed,” she laughed. “I’ve gotten questions ranging from philosophy, quantum physics, and even if I like eggplants. Do you even have eggplants here?”

“No. Nor gerbils, fortunately.”

“Careful, Ambassador. That almost seemed like a joke.”

The turbolift suddenly swung open, and Amanda found herself face-to-face with two Vulcans.

“This is T’Pille and Boron. Both are trained in the Vulcan martial arts. T’Pille specializes in the _Suus Mahna_ style, while Boron favors the _Sha’mura._ ”

They certainly didn’t _look_ like martial artists. Both Vulcans were of slim and lean stature – Sarek as well, now that she thought of it. They both were dressed in Vulcan robes, except Amanda supposed that the clothing didn’t have as much excess fabric in the way, and she could see they both wore pants. Most of the women she’s seen in Vulcan typically wore gowns.

That last aspect had made Amanda unsure about the clothing she had brought herself. Most of her wardrobe comprised of pants, but she had some long skirts for more casual days. While she knew she wasn’t expected to put on full Vulcan regalia, she didn’t know if she came off as radical in their standards. One of the strangest things she’s ever had to do was attend a lesson on Vulcan culture and etiquette, which was required for her whole team in preparation for the trip. It was three days of the instructors essentially repeating _don’t touch_.

“Hello, I am Amanda,” she said warmly. “Thank you so much for offering your help.”

They nodded respectfully. The one known as T’Pille spoke first. “It is an honor to assist an educator, Dr. Grayson. Would you allow us to link our PADDs with yours and give access to your team’s calendars?”

“Of course.” She pulled hers out and explained as their PADDs synced. “We typically only work Monday through Friday, so you’ll have the weekend off as well.”

“You misunderstand, Dr. Grayson,” said Boron, who had a strangely airy voice. It contrasted greatly with his slate, still eyes. “Our services extend for the whole time. Any moment your team leaves your living quarters, we are to accompany.”

Amanda stared.

T’Pille, Boron, and even Sarek looked back expectantly. She gathered her bearings and shook her head. “That is kind, but unnecessary. We’ll all likely be doing our own individual things during the weekend – exploring, relaxing, working. We will be able to handle ourselves during the weekends.”

Sarek interceded, ever the mediator. “Amanda, it would not be wise to refuse their offer. Tensions are only rising, and this will ensure the safety of you and your team.”

“I am aware, but this is excessive.”

“I admit I do not understand this stubbornness to accept additional protection, which, if you recall, you have previously accepted.”

His authoritative tone did not go unnoticed to her. She frowned. “I accepted out of _courtesy_ , Ambassador. I was also under the impression that the additional security was in response to the nature of my research. This goes beyond the jurisdiction of my agreement.”

Amanda wasn’t sure if she actually saw a faint twitch at his temple, but the disapproval in his gaze was loud enough.

When he didn’t respond, she turned to T’Pille and Boron and emphasized, “Thank you for your services. My team and I are done for today, but we’ll see you after this weekend.”

T’Pille and Boron had observed this strange battle gracefully. They glanced at Sarek before T’Pille responded, “Yes, Dr. Grayson. We’ll take our leave.”

It wasn’t until they were alone that Sarek faced her, his mouth set at a hard line. “I do not see how the prideful nature of humans and their need to reject help serve them well in any situation.”

If Amanda hadn’t ever conversed with Sarek before, she probably would have been intimidated out of her mind. He certainly did not look pleased, but now, she just felt amused. “I thought Vulcans don’t like generalizing.”

Sarek raised an eyebrow, his features softening just barely. “From my many interactions with your people, I believe I have sufficient amount of evidence to support my claim.”

“Fair enough,” she relented, her lips quirking upwards. “Well, how have things been on your end? I can’t imagine it’s been pleasant.”

Sarek’s response was careful and measured, and his face shifted into an impassive mask. Amanda regretted asking. “I suspect that plans beyond our scope have long been set into motion, and we are only at the beginning of it all.”

How vague for a Vulcan. “When are the debates starting?”

“The Proposal Group must first introduce the re-ratification of the Articles. We are expecting opposition to this, and thus the debates will then take place. However, the Proposal Group will not do so for another three weeks, due to the upcoming celebrations the Federation will be hosting.”

“Do they always wait this long?”

“No. Every five years, the Federation hosts official celebrations at one planet, which changes each time. Vulcan was asked to be the host planet for this year.”

Suddenly, Aisha appeared down the hall. Her friend looked faintly exasperated. “Amanda! Havin is on the mechanical floor and is asking for you. There’s a worker saying he needs specs to connect our processor to the systems!”

Amanda inwardly grimaced. Vulcans were incredibly detail-oriented, so she mentally prepared herself for an inevitable fight with a tech Vulcan.

Sarek turned to her. “I am expected elsewhere as well. I am to meet with the Learning Center’s director.”

They walked to the turbolift. Sarek pressed the down button, while she pressed for up.

“Are you going to next week’s gala?”

“It is expected of me.” He seemed rather unenthused by the prospect of it.

Amanda hid her smile. “Well, I’m sure we’ll run into each other there. Are you looking forward to it?”

“These events are necessary in fostering and commemorating relationships. But I confess I find them equally as tedious.”

“With a bunch of humans and Andorians and the like, I bet it will be more chaotic than usual. Therefore, more entertaining,” she appeased, as she stepped in the lift. “Take care, Ambassador.”

“And you, Amanda.” Sarek’s acute eyes were the last thing she saw of him as the doors closed.

In the quiet of the lift, she took advantage of the stillness to reflect on the ambassador. Compared to all of the Vulcans she has dealt with in her time here, Amanda believed him to be the most patient. The others didn’t outwardly show any signs of impatience or rudeness necessarily. But neither were they comforting in their responses.

Sarek was still intimidating by human standards, of course. Before her team’s initial meeting with him, Amanda had prepared herself based on the stories other humans had told about the Vulcan Ambassador. And his impassivity and directness during the meeting certainly confirmed all of that. But it was simply his people’s way of life.

Amanda had the sense that he listened while she spoke, rather than immediately begin analyzing and dissecting her words. Unlike her fellow Vulcan colleagues, who placed emphasis on efficiency and productivity. But Sarek certainly had a characteristic sharpness that made his disapproval incredibly clear.

She strangely found that rather amusing

The lifts opened with an accompanying _ding_ , and Amanda stepped out onto the mechanical floor, which contained all the heavy electronics that kept this center running. It was a maze of machines, and she herself could hardly recognize the alien technology. The wires all around the room seemed to pulse with light as if sentient – which very well might be the case.

“Hello?” she called out.

“Over here!”

Amanda headed towards the vague direction of the voice. She maneuvered through the winding walkways – everything was curved and formed circles upon circles. Frankly, she had no idea where she was going, but eventually, she turned and took in the sight in front of her.

Havin and Aisha stood at one side of the walkway, while a Vulcan stood at the other. They appeared to just be staring at each other in silence.

Amanda frowned. “What is happening?”

No one looked at her. “I believe,” began Havin. “We are having a staring contest.”

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. “We are simply waiting for the specifications. If this were a contest, you would have already lost as you blinked approximately 3.20 times more than I did.”

Amanda sighed and handed her the PADD, effectively breaking the strange interaction between both parties.

She shot a warning look to Havin, who appeared smug by the Vulcan needing to break eye contact to look at the PADD.

The whole process took _another_ forty minutes. It was already a late day due to all of her meetings with the students, but Amanda handled the Vulcan’s painstaking attention to detail with patience. Her two friends, however, were already sprawled on the floor and tossing back and forth a ball by the time they finished.

The Vulcan departed without another word, and Amanda exhaled as she turned to look down at Aisha and Havin. “You kids ready?”

As they walked back to the elevator, Havin muttered, “Honestly, I don’t know how Vulcans find any pleasure in life.”

“I would pay big money to see a Vulcan laugh,” sighed Aisha.

Amanda shrugged. “I’m sure they have their own methods of entertainment.”

“They probably break a computer and put it back together again for kicks.”

“I wonder what their sex life is like,” wondered Aisha.

Amanda swatted her and hissed, “Don’t say that out loud! This is a family place.”

Aisha snorted. “I’m just asking!”

They entered the lift and the doors closed behind them. Amanda leaned against the wall and thoughtfully looked up.

They began their descent, and it was then that Amanda wrinkled her nose. “I imagine it would consist of a lot of staring.”

Aisha guffawed. “You’re right – the eyes are the most erotic part of the body you know, and Vulcans do do a lot of staring.”

“Are you saying they’re eye-fucking us every time?” Havin deadpanned. They stepped out onto the ground floor. At this hour, almost all the employees had already gone home.

Amanda laughed. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was some process like Athena’s brainchildren – they just pop into existence through sheer will.” 

“Exactly,” emphasized Aisha. “Vulcans eye-fuck and then _boom_ – Vulcan baby!”

“This conversation is ridiculous,” sighed Amanda.

“I wouldn’t mind testing it out.” Aisha’s eyebrows wagged. “I can find Mister Ambassador and just give him a long look.”

They broke out into snorts and laughter as they turned the corner. Amanda stifled a gasp as they abruptly froze.

Ambassador Sarek stopped as well. His expression was impassive, and for a second, no one spoke.

Amanda, for her credit, pulled on a polite smile in a heartbeat. “Ambassador, did you just get out of your meeting?”

“Indeed. I am now heading back up to the landing pad to meet with the Council.”

“Well, we won’t keep you waiting. We’ll see you at the gala.”

Sarek nodded, and Amanda made a move to step around him, but his levelled, calm words stilled her actions. “And to clarify, Vulcans procreate similarly to humans.”

In that moment, Amanda truly welcomed death.

“Thank you, Ambassador,” gracefully replied Amanda, her smile unfazed. Ignoring Havin’s guffaw, she continued, “We appreciate the information.”

“Truly,” added Aisha.

Sarek dipped his head and promptly entered the lift behind them.

It was only when it signaled that his lift had reached the third floor that Amanda shoved Aisha, and the three of them burst into hysterical laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that Sarek thought he was genuinely correcting them. Honestly though, this chapter is on crack l o l but don't get used to it kids bc it gets quite ~serious~ in a couple of chapters. I will be posting the next chapter earlier sometime this weekend bc I love it and want to share :D
> 
> As always, feel free to comment!! I love hearing from you guys!


	4. The Dramaturgical Perspective

_The dramaturgical perspective assumes that our personalities are not static but change to suit the situation we are in. People's day-to-day lives can be understood as resembling performers in action on a theater stage. As we present ourselves in various situations, we are much like actors putting on performances for their audience._

* * *

> _The Vulcan High Command and the United Federation of Planets are cordially inviting_
> 
> Amanda Grayson
> 
> _to attend a Vulcan-styled gala celebrating the 65 years of partnership made possible by the Federation Charter_
> 
> _Time: Stardate 2226.245 at 1900 Galactic Time_
> 
> _Location: ShiKahr’s Hall of Ministry_
> 
> _Please submit any unique dietary concerns_

“What the hell even is a Vulcan gala? I didn’t even know they have galas.”

Amanda shrugged, adjusting her gown. “I have no clue. But from what T’Pille said, there’s going to be a lot of off-world guests, so it can’t be that traditional.”

Her team resided in Federation-owned apartments that were three blocks away from Earth’s Embassy. The Hall of Ministry was only a block further, so Amanda and her friends agreed to walk. 

Even just walking four blocks stole her breath. They walked to work every day, and Amanda always took a moment to take it all in. Vulcan architecture was a monument to the future and past. The high-rises pierced the sky with their slender shapes that often tapered at the top. Reminiscent of their rich culture, the buildings had decorative detailing and Vulcan language etched along the sides and archways. And almost always, a nearby planet would encompass much of the sky.

By choice, Vulcans did not seem to have any issues with overpopulation – most of the Vulcan students she met did not have any siblings. Furthermore, Shi’Kahr was a very _logical_ city in terms of how it was structured. Main roads met at the center, more specifically at the Hall of Ministry, and then radiated outward. The roads divided the city into slices, each of which was led by a representative. Hospitals, learning centers, and other institutions were all placed equidistant and symmetrical from each other. Almost everyone downtown seemed to use public transportation or simply walked. Hovercrafts and shuttles flew above the sea of buildings, offering quick rides to and back from the outer rims.

It was the first time that Amanda will be entering the Hall of Ministry. She’s always seen it outside her office window at the Embassy, but she never had taken the time to see it yet. Granted, it’s only been two weeks since her arrival. But in that moment, she consciously decided to make more of an effort to see the city.

Eventually, her team found themselves at the foot of the building. Although it was termed as a ‘hall’, it was clearly the tallest building in all of Shi’Kahr. It was composed of tendrils of metal that wound around each other like roots of a tree and grew up towards the fading sky.

Aisha linked arms with Amanda, and together, her friends walked up the marble stairs. There were others also streaming in. Amanda saw Vulcans, humans, Andorians, and other races she couldn’t even recognize. Such a diverse group came with _noise_ , and she knew it didn’t come from the Vulcans. All the other races spoke amiably and with laughter. And she found she could not understand any of the other languages.

“Holy shit,” muttered Havin. “Why did I agree to come?”

“You know, you never explained why you have a grudge against Vulcans,” pointed out Amanda.

He scowled. “You know those Federation poker nights I would go to back on Earth?”

“Yes.”

“Well apparently, Vulcans love that shit - ”

“And he loses every time against them,” butted in Joran, a grin on his face. He was the youngest member out of the five in her team, having just graduated from university. But he had been Havin’s assistant throughout his time as a student and leapt at the chance to join them on their trip to Vulcan. “It’s hilarious.”

“Of course they win – those bastards memorize the cards,” exclaimed Havin defensively.

Amanda snorted. “They’re on a whole other level.”

“They cheat,” sniffed Havin. “Have you ever seen a Vulcan smirk?”

“No.”

“Well, they do because they're smug bastards – ‘Vulcans feel no pride’ be damned.”

They entered through the sweeping arch and followed the stream of people to the center of the building. Amanda gaped like an idiot. The center of the tall building was hollow, and by looking up she could see every single level of the building. Each floor was like a donut and had decks that overlooked the center of the whole Hall of Ministry. It was so tall that she couldn’t even make out the very top.

At the ground floor, the very center contained a transporter – or no, a lift. Amanda watched as a group would move forward and stand on a platform, which would then raise itself and ascend straight up. She watched them until she couldn’t even see the disk anymore. She felt queasy just from watching.

When it was their turn, she forced herself onto the platform and quickly made her way to the very center. She clasped her hands in front and felt like the picture of calm. At least, until the platform lifted, and her stomach dropped.

“You alright, boss?” chuckled Titus. He, like Fasa and Joran, had joined the team once Ambassador Sarek had first greenlit the project. Before that, it was just her, Aisha, and Havin that kept the place running.

Amanda saw a tall, beautiful Vulcan lady in elaborate robes glance at her and then stiffly took a step to the side.

Amanda sent a sour look at Titus, who suddenly found himself very interested in his button.

While it felt like ages, eventually the platform slowed to a stop. As people ahead of her shuffled off, she saw that they reached the highest it could go. Two white curved staircases swept around the circular room and met at the center, where it then arched over their heads. It was a feat of physics to do so without requiring any support beams, at least according to Havin.

The Vulcan marble was the purest thing she’s ever seen. It had a pearl color to it, and it appeared almost translucent. She could swear it was glowing as well. The handrail was smooth and cool beneath her palm.

Two giant double doors stood wide open and invited guests to enter the hall. In front of it stood a line of Vulcan high officials. Most of them wore traditional styled Vulcan clothes that consisted of sweeping fabrics artfully draped over themselves. Their garments were much more elaborate than their day clothes and often intricately embroidered on, revealing a flair that Amanda did not expect from them. There was not a crease or a strand out of place, and their strict signature Vulcan hairstyle only added to the effect. They greeted their guests, and she felt a hint of trepidation at the prospect of speaking to them. But she noticed with relief that most of the people only offered respectful nods. Only those that seemed directly familiar would stop and greet the Vulcans.

As she passed, Amanda almost immediately recognized a familiar stature. 

“I’ve never seen you so colorful before.”

Sarek turned, an eyebrow raised until he realized who she was. “Amanda.” He gave a short bow. “Unfortunately, certain situations dictate that one must – as the humans say – ‘step out of one’s comfort zone.’”

Sarek was dressed impeccably as usual. Except this time, instead of his traditional dark grey that he seemed to favor so much, he wore an olive-green set of textured robes that shown like metal under the lights. 

She smiled. “No need to pout - the color is lovely.”

“I do not ‘pout.’ Have your subordinates arrived as well?”

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. “I believe my _friends_ are already inside.” She glanced around, and narrowly avoided hitting an Orion pair who were talking animatedly in their language. She took a step across the threshold. “I should actually go find -”

Amanda stopped and gazed around in amazement as the rest of the crowd ushered ahead. She knew it was rude to make others move around her like a rock in a current. But as every person passed the threshold, it was like a switch had gone off. Suddenly, every single race was speaking Standard.

She saw a device attached onto the tip of the archway. And looking around, she could see them all across the wide, domed room.

“I see the universal translator has caught your attention.” Sarek stepped across the threshold as well.

“It has,” she breathed. “I’ve never seen it used like this – and with such a wide range. How is it able to translate a whole room of conversations?”

“This is the first and only translator to be utilized in such a fashion. Each device has a detector that picks up and individual’s words, only for it then to be amplified out towards the listener.”

Amanda sensed he was looking at her, and she met his gaze as he continued, “Each person has a unique frequency they hear from, and thus only he will hear conversations near him.”

There was something strange about the way his mouth was moving, and it clicked. She laughed. “You’re speaking Vulcan right now, aren’t you?”

“Indeed. But now I’m speaking Andorian.”

“Now you’re just showing off.”

“I am merely demonstrating the Universal Translator’s capabilities. As a Vulcan, it would be illogical to show a desire to promote one’s talents unnecessarily, as it serves no purpose.”

She would’ve thought he was joking, but she has become increasingly aware that Vulcans don’t joke. But there was no denying that Sarek was being _witty_.

“Ambassador Sarek.” A smooth voice cut through their conversation with a power that demanded attention. Amanda looked pass Sarek to see a Vulcan woman in a Starfleet uniform. She was tall and stately, and her dark hair was pulled back into a strict bun. Her straight bangs framed what would’ve been a pleasant face if she didn’t look calculating. The woman glanced at Amanda, and she felt that the Vulcan was assessing her. Not like Sarek, who had a sense of curiosity and respect. This time, it felt like she was probing into her mind with her cold, flat eyes.

“Admiral Patar,” acknowledged Sarek, but he didn’t bow. In fact, his own tone became significantly stricter and more monotonous.

He barely looked at Amanda when he said, “I trust you are well and able to find your seat?”

There was some unspoken tension, and it took her a second to realize he was talking to herself. “Yes. Thank you, Ambassador.”

Amanda gracefully took the hint and swiftly headed to find her friends. Her thoughts still lingered on Admiral Patar. She’s never seen two Vulcans interact so frostily – and they had only said each other’s names.

Soon, however, she became fascinated with the scene in front of her. The hall was _huge_. There were hundreds of people of the Federation and Vulcan government milling about, their different voices and languages cacophonous altogether. Circular tables were placed beside each other and somehow managed to fit everyone. She looked at her invitation on her PADD and a compass appeared on the screen and guided her where to go.

It led her to stairs along the edges of the round room that curved up to the second-floor decks that circled the hall, offering a view down below. It was likely the more important individuals sat on the first floor.

Eventually, she saw Fasa waving at her. They were placed at the farthest table from the stairs – unsurprising considering they were only a research team with a Federation grant. Honestly, Amanda was even surprised that had an invitation in the first place. But the closer she got, she realized their table oversaw the stage below. And right by the table, there was a strange door that almost blended into the walls. Rectangular arched windows spanned across the whole circular room, and the door had a window that exposed the night’s sky. Amanda thought she could see a balcony on the other side.

Aisha flashed her a grin, her augmented eye spinning around all over the room – no doubt trying to take in all the details. “Can you believe this? We’re like fucking royalty.”

“Aisha has been plotting how to steal the vases,” whispered Joran.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t just ask me to get you one also,” hissed Aisha. “Consider that request denied.”

“Hey, now. I was just -”

“I say,” interrupted Amanda, raising a finger. “We take one and just throw it in the replicator.”

Havin rolled his eyes while the others hooted.

At 1850 Galactic Time, a clear bell rippled across the room. This one note reverberated up the walls of the dome, rebounded, and peeled back down in a constant flux. It continued until it just lingered in the air, making the silence more palpable.

Everyone quickly settled after that. It was clear Vulcans valued the written and planned time, because ten minutes later at precisely 1900, an aged Vulcan appeared on the front platform. The platform was made of the same material as the curved staircase from earlier, and he almost looked like he was on a cloud. For a surreal moment, Amanda imagined him as a Vulcan angel.

It was still a shock when she heard Standard from his mouth. “Greetings friends and partners. It is an auspicious time as we see how far we have all come. It was only sixty-five years ago that my fellow High Council members and I made the pivotal decision on behalf of Vulcan to join the Federation.”

“ _Sixty-five years?”_ whispered Aisha. “How old are they?”

Now that was a good question. Amanda made a note to check later.

“That has led to a period of exploration and shared knowledge that has revolutionized our planet and many others. During all of this, my people have and must continue to not forget our teachings. Many more years are to come during which we all will be tested – more so than ever before. I have no doubt that the Federation and the Vulcan people will rise up for the challenge. Now, on behalf of the High Council, we welcome you to our Hall.”

“How cheery,” murmured Amanda. Frankly, the old Vulcan’s words sounded quite ominous. But he also wasted no words and went to sit just as quickly he came.

Vulcan etiquette dictated not to clap, as they found it loud and unnecessary. So, the crowd waited in silence as the current Federation president, Makena Akintola, stepped up to the platform. She wore a beautiful and vibrant patterned gown and spoke with an authority that was impressive for her young age.

Similarly, Akintola kept it short. But she emphasized the extraordinary accomplishments that came from interstellar alliances such as the recent invention and integration of the Universal Translator. It was a symbol of unity and a bridge for future endeavors.

As was written on the schedule, the first course of the meal was served at 1915 on the dot. According to the itinerary, the appetizer was composed of fresh _gespar,_ a pink fruit that had the tanginess of pineapple but the sweetness of a peach. Reminiscent of ice cream, the dish was cool and refreshing. Next came _ulan_ soup that carried a strange combination of earthiness and spiciness. The main dish was jumbo Vulcan scallops, which surprised Amanda, as she had no idea where on Vulcan they even had a body of water. It was sautéed in Rhombolian butter, and its juiciness and intense flavor made it her favorite dish.

All in all, a “Vulcan-styled gala” was a simple affair that had strict sessions for speaking, eating, and music. Everything was on time and in place. The Vulcan staff that waited on them had perfected the art and moved with synchronous precision. Although, she suspected a true Vulcan gala wouldn’t be as loud as it was now. 

The dinner itself only lasted an hour and a half. Afterwards came the Vulcan entertainment. An ensemble gathered on the platform. They all wore white robes that blended into the glowing stone. Amanda couldn’t even tell if they were male or females, but they had the typical hairstyle, pointed ears, and sharp eyebrows.

And when they started playing a compilation of strange yet graceful wooden instruments, it sounded, quite literally, other-worldly. Amanda wasn’t sure if it was due to the marble dome above them that heightened the effect, but the notes shook the air itself.

Vulcans had architecture, art, and design – but they seemed to lack in the entertainment department. All they had was music, but it was clear their talents more than made up for it.

Amanda suddenly felt quite overwhelmed. She was a human on _Vulcan_. Every child on Earth learned about outworlders as soon as they could speak. Millions of them would grow up and never actually get to see them. Not like this. It’s incredibly humbling, and her heart ached with a wonder that she’s never felt before.

It was almost a relief when the last note faded into the night. Even her friends around the table looked out of sorts. In fact, most of the hall was quiet. She realized belatedly that a tear had fallen down her cheek. Christ, what a mess.

Havin shook his head gravelly, wiping his eyes. “I need a drink.”

“There’s a bar downstairs, if you can believe it.” Aisha stood up, fanning her face. “You guys want to head down?”

The others agreed and began to head out, but Amanda touched Aisha’s elbow and nodded towards the small door. “I’m gonna go out to the deck for a bit.”

“I’ll let the others know, and we’ll meet you after, alright?”

Amanda smiled and nodded.

She approached the hidden window door and pushed it open. Cool, dry air swept pass her, as if eager to head inside.

The second level didn’t lead to a balcony like she thought, but instead to another stone staircase. The door swung shut behind her with a softness that she didn’t expect. Amanda belatedly realized she might be locked out, but she had her PADD with her if she needed to call her friends. The stairway led up and down, so Amanda decided to go up.

The stairs opened up revealing a beautiful deck – much bigger than a balcony. There were a couple of people who had also come to look at the view, but it was overall rather empty – likely due to the hidden nature of the doors. The deck completely jutted out of the building over the city below. She forced herself to walk to the edge and when she reached the marble bars, she felt a wave of vertigo hit as she looked down. The lights from windows shone brightly, and hovercrafts streaked in between buildings, leaving behind lines of light behind her eyelids. 

It was when she could breathe normally that she looked up. The Eridani sun had set an hour ago, leaving behind an inky black sky that twinkled with thousands upon thousands of stars. For a strange moment, she almost felt like she was back at home. All that was missing was a white moon.

“Did the music not suit your preference?”

Startled by the gravelly voice, Amanda straightened and turned, keeping a careful hand on the rail.

It was a male Vulcan wearing a deep purple set of robes. He appeared only a bit older than herself and had the blackest eyes she’s ever seen. Most of the Vulcans she met indeed had brown or black irises. But it was as though his swallowed almost all of the whites of his eyes.

It felt strange not to smile, so she gave a polite one – albeit a bit reserved for his sake. “It was –” She shook her head and waved a hand. The Vulcan watched the movement intently. “- transcendent. I’ve never heard anything quite like it.”

“I imagine not.”

Amanda blinked, not sure whether or not to feel insulted. She couldn’t read this man. His face was made out of stone, and his voice – though unexpectedly rough for a Vulcan – was also flat. It made him sound brittle, like a broken communications system. It didn’t help that he stood as still as a hawk. It was almost predatory.

Before she could come up with a response, he continued, “I trust you are adapting to the Vulcan way of life?”

Maintaining a formal, respectful air, Amanda nodded. “Yes. Shi’Kahr has been incredibly accompanying. Even just walking on the streets, it takes my breath away. The architecture especially is incredibly graceful and representative of its culture.”

“That is gratifying to hear. Have you got a chance to visit the natural reserves? They have the most magnificent collection of species.”

“I haven’t actually. What kind of creatures do they have?”

“Vulcan is a harsh world compared to others. The climate and terrain do not allow diversity of species. As such, this planet ensures there’s only a few species left – just enough predators and prey to keep the balance of life.”

“What do you mean by ‘not allow diversity of species’?”

He chuckled, a forced, rumbling sound. It took her a while to recognize what it was – she’s never heard a Vulcan laugh, especially not like _that_. “Vulcan evolution does not allow much differentiation in the first place. A few prominent species will come out on top, but only one can win. Often, the best predators move in small packs, and they even team up with other species like them. They hunt their prey, yes, but options are scarce out in the harsh deserts. Thus, it is only natural for them to eventually attack their fellow allies. Soon those who shared a symbiotic relationship, are inevitably destined to combat – with only the superior rising to the top.”

Amanda shifted, turning back out to face the sky. It might’ve been rude to divert her attention, but the hairs on her arms were erect and goosebumps covered her skin. Something was just off about this one. It was clear he was not intending to be amiable, and her jaw tightened.

The Vulcan even took a step forward and became uncomfortably close to her. Adrenaline spiked in her veins, but her pride fought against her instinct to move away. Her heart pounded, but she steadfastly looked straight forward.

“Are you afraid, Dr. Grayson?” His dark eyes looked almost amused, but not a hair twitched on his head. “Of heights, I mean. I heard humans tend to have a strange fear of falling.”

She offered a smile. Part of her was petty enough to hope that the meaning of it confused the Vulcan. “You’re quite right. Typically, heights don’t affect me much – but this is much higher than I am used to.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Then how was your voyage to Vulcan?”

Amanda thought back to the moment Sarek had to calm her down from her almost meltdown. “Quite uneventful.”

He raised an eyebrow, and it was as though this man read her mind. “Were you not on the same passenger shuttle as Ambassador Sarek?”

She stared at his stone face. “Yes, I was.”

“How strange. Does he not have his own ship?”

“I believe so. But his ship was in Vulcan under repairs at the time,” recalled Amanda. Immediately, part of her realized she shouldn’t have said that. The statement was innocent, but the Vulcan looked only more interested.

“Indeed? There were only one-hundred passengers, am I correct? It must have been easy to run into someone like the Ambassador onto such a small shuttlecraft. I assume you know each other – I believe I recognize you conversing with him earlier.”

“Yes, the craft was small,” answered Amanda carefully. “But I only spoke to the Ambassador a few times. He had other important duties to take care of.”

“Of course. Forgive me for my queries. I am simply quite curious on the nature of your visit.”

“Excuse me?” She didn’t hide the sharpness in her voice.

“Your research was approved by the Ambassador himself – allowing you to bypass typical regulation that requires approval from our Department of Sciences.” It wasn’t a question. Red sirens went off in her head. What the hell is happening? “As another admirer of the sciences, would you mind explaining your research to me?”

She was already coming up with an excuse to retreat. She forced her polite smile to remain. “I’m afraid I never got your na –”

“Minister Valkh. I am obliged to offer my congratulations on your new position.”

Amanda suddenly felt a surge of relief but was very conscious about keeping that hidden. This _Valkh_ smoothly stepped back and looked away towards the person that joined at Amanda’s side, allowing her to finally breathe.

Valkh’s face hardened significantly, despite the respectful words. “Ambassador Sarek.” Valkh nodded to Amanda. “I have just become acquainted with a new _friend_ here.”

She looked over, and Sarek had his usual impassive, neutral expression on, except she noticed his mouth was set in a hard line. He didn’t look back at her.

“May I query on the current topic?”

“We simply discussed a human’s illogical fear of heights. Humans are quite interesting, are they not, Ambassador? I can almost understand what has encouraged you to remain among this race for the past five years.” Amanda felt like Valkh was talking about her kind as if they were some cute, unnecessary pet. “I’m curious, Ambassador. Do you struggle with maintaining a logic-based way of life when among them?”

Sarek raised an eyebrow. “I follow Surak’s teachings and honor it. However, it is unfortunate that recently there have been such unnecessary violence being done in his name.”

“Interpretations of the text are not as straightforward as we would like.” Valkh’s black eyes suddenly cut into hers. “Have you ever read _T_ _he Teachings of Surak_?”

“No, I’m afraid I have not,” admitted Amanda. "But I am familiar with it."

“What a curious expression.” Valkh continued, “Ambassador Sarek’s father was the first to translate our respected text into Standard, thus allowing all humans to read and study it.”

“That is quite an admirable feat,” Amanda offered. “Translating Vulcan to any language is not easy. Many Vulcan phrases and meanings are not easily translatable.”

“Indeed. There are those who say that doing so dilutes our culture and language.”

A bell suddenly pealed from inside the dome, similar to the one that first initiated the gala.

“Ah, the second act is about to begin.” Valkh nodded to Sarek. “Ambassador. I will see you at the upcoming Proposal Day.”

His black eyes turned to her. “And take care, Dr. Grayson. As I have said, this planet is quite unforgiving.”

Then Valkh extended his arm out to her, and Amanda belatedly realize he was offering to shake hands – something she’s never seen a Vulcan do.

“ _Valkh_ ,” cut in Sarek, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. “You forget yourself.”

The minister simply withdrew his hand. “Only trying to honor the human ways, Ambassador. I would have thought you of all Vulcans would appreciate the effort.”

Neither Sarek or Amanda responded, but the Valkh had already turned and was heading towards the stairs.

It wasn’t until Amanda couldn’t see him anymore that she breathed out, “Who is that guy?”

“We will speak of this matter later. Not here,” smoothly responded Sarek, who turned out to face the view as if nothing was amiss.

Amanda frowned. She leaned back against the handrail, eyes still on the staircase. She felt as though this Valkh was going to pop back out like a daisy.

But then she saw that the others on the deck were mainly Vulcans. One glanced away when she looked towards him, and Amanda had a sinking suspicion that those around them likely overheard what had transpired. It was, after all, a still and quiet night.

Sighing, Amanda turned around, bracing her crossed arms on top of the handrail. Sarek was standing with his impeccable posture and hands behind his back – because when has he ever stood otherwise? He seemed quite content to not say anything.

Amanda didn’t want to be the one to break the silence as well, so she put more weight on her arms as she leaned forward to look down below. Amanda contented herself to watch the lights of the city streak beneath her. Her vision simultaneously narrowed and brightened.

Amanda felt irrationally smug when Sarek broke the silence.

“The music is beginning,” he informed.

It was only if she strained and focused on it, she could barely hear vague remnants of a song coming from inside. The marble must help insulate the sounds waves. “How can you hear that?”

“Vulcans have more acute hearing than humans.”

Of course, they do. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to stand out here in the cold.”

“It is no obligation.”

He was waiting for the others to leave, she realized. Already, she could see the Vulcans beginning to trickle back inside.

“Does the music not suit your preference?” he asked.

Amanda snorted. His question was almost word for word as Valkh’s.

But before she could respond, her PADD inside her clutch went off. Normally she would’ve ignored it, especially during a conversation. But she recognized the notification sound. She heard it every time she walked into the Learning Center.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, pulling out her PADD. “I need to check this.”

Amanda didn’t even hear his reply, nor honestly cared to. She blinked at the screen. She was at the Hall of Ministry right now – why would her PADD say -

She vaguely heard him ask something, but she couldn’t comprehend.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. The words were out of her mouth before she knew it. “I have to go. This doesn’t make sense at all, and I really have to go check on it. I – ”

“ _Amanda_.”

It was Sarek’s firm tone shook her out of her shock. Amanda belatedly felt his unyielding grip on her sleeved elbow, thus preventing her from running off. She met his calm dark eyes that reflected the lights of the stars. His eyes – along with a brief indignation at being stopped – steadied her.

“Explain.”

The words just shot out of her. “To gain access to the Learning Center – specifically to our lab – every personnel require their PADD and fingerprint to confirm clearance. My PADD is saying that _I_ am currently in the lab and accessing our data files _right now_. ”

In her mild panic, it maddened her to see him stand so calm and still. He barely reacted to her words, instead reaching into his coat and pulled out what looked like a miniature remote.

“To look at these data files, do you need to be there in person?”

Amanda nodded. She looked around and noticed they were alone. “Yes. All of the computers and data are heavily protected from outside interference – in case of any wayward hackers trying to gain access to examination scores or whatnot.”

She stepped back. “I have to go down and check on it – ”

“That is illogical. Walking or public transportation will take time.” Sarek tucked the remote back into his robes and looked out beyond the deck. “I have a more efficient alternative.”

A sleek cruiser suddenly appeared six feet away from the edge. It had wings that arched over itself, like a spry bird in mid-flight. It hovered invitingly, and Sarek nimbly climbed over the handrail – the same handrail that separated them from falling 3000 feet to their deaths. She stared at him, bewildered. The cruiser was too far for him to simply jump across. Perhaps he was going to wait for it to come to him?

But then, he moved.

Amanda yelped, and it was her turn to grab him.

She caught his arm, but he had already let go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amanda's gown (not as deep of a V though, for the Vulcans sake): https://pin.it/1uZnMVK
> 
> As a note to hopefully help for future chapters: In Vulcan, there's the High Command, which is in charge of the governmental body of Vulcan and deals with legislative stuff, etc. Meanwhile there is also the High Council, which is the body of elders in charge of maintaining Vulcan culture/history 
> 
> I LOVE hearing from you guys, so any questions, suggestions, comments are always welcome <3


	5. The Six Basic Emotions

_The Six Basic Emotions (happiness, sadness, fear, disgust, anger, surprise) are all expressed across the human* race and are innately recognized by facial expressions - transcending language, regional, cultural, and ethnic differences._

* _It is postulated that each galactic race has their own respective 'basic emotions'._

* * *

A sleek cruiser suddenly appeared six feet away from the edge. It had wings that arched over itself, like a spry bird in mid-flight. It hovered invitingly, and Sarek nimbly climbed over the handrail – the same handrail that separated them from falling 3000 feet to their deaths. She stared at him bewildered. The cruiser was too far for him to simply jump across. Perhaps he was going to wait for it to come to him?

But then, he moved.

Amanda yelped, and it was her turn to grab him.

She caught his arm, but he had already let go. 

However, Amanda didn’t feel the fabric of Sarek’s robes in her hand slip away – instead, she could feel the heat radiating from the skin beneath– and she didn’t see him falling to his death, either. Instead, she saw his infuriating eyebrow raise at her clearly _illogical_ panic.

Because he wasn’t falling. On impact, the air beneath his feet rippled outward with blue artificial light.

She shouldn’t have been surprised – most observation decks back on Earth have similar safety measures such as these deflector shields. In fact, most high-rises have some form of deflector shields all around the building itself. Not as strong as those on Starfleet ships, but durable enough to protect against bad weather and the stray hovercraft accident.

“While I am honored by your attempts to save my life,” Sarek said dryly. “I believe it is not necessary.”

“Ugh.” Amanda let go of his arm, her cheeks warm. “Next time, I won’t even try.”

Sarek took a step back, and she met his expectant eyes.

She scoffed. “Hard pass. I’ll walk.”

“Your stubbornness fails to allow you to recognize that with my craft, we will arrive within four minutes. Considering human’s average speed when walking, it will take you twenty-six minutes – plenty of time for whoever is in your lab to complete their mission. But the fault is mine. I must have incorrectly assumed that you value your project.”

Oh, what a bastard. If there was anything she could not stand, it was a man – even a Vulcan man – challenging her allegiance to her project. And it _should_ be safe.

“I recognize the logic of it, Sarek,” Amanda hissed as she turned around to face the dome and stepped on the handrail’s platform to gain some height. She exhaled, braced her hands palm down behind her on the handrail, and pushed herself up. Once perched on the rail, she swung her legs around, so she now sat on it facing the open sky. She blanched.

All Amanda saw beneath her was 3000 feet of open space. Her stomach dropped and another wave of vertigo hit. A breeze conveniently decided to come from behind her, teasingly blowing her hair towards the ship.

What a shit decision. “I just have a completely healthy fear of falling to my death.”

Sarek stood beside her, patiently waiting. Perched on the handrail as she was, she was as tall as Sarek. In fact, she was now eye level with him. “You will not fall. These shields are meant to hold up to three tons if need be.” He paused, looking at her carefully. “If you do somehow fall, it would take you 16.2 seconds until you reach the ground at this height – more than enough time for me to enter my ship and catch you.”

She laughed, a twinge of hysteria piercing through. “We are not doing this again, right?”

“I do not foresee when we would need to.”

Then Sarek offered his arm. It surprised her, but at the same time, it didn’t. She probably looked like she was about to pass out, which she certainly felt like. His textured robes were unexpectedly light, and she could feel the heat beneath the fabric. She tightly held onto his forearm once more, but now it was her who was about to fall.

Amanda jumped off, and he barely moved when she pushed down on his arm to brace her landing. The shield sent out blue waves beneath her feet. Looking down was starting to make her feel queasy, so she grimaced up at Sarek instead.

Sarek took that as permission to continue, so he took a step farther out. Embarrassingly, another yelp came out of her mouth. He didn’t even bother with a response this time but waited for her to move forward as well.

To her, this was like Russian roulette. Every step he took felt like a gamble to Amanda. But still, she kept a tight grip on his arm, and eventually they reached the edge of the shields.

There was only a gap of a few inches between the shields and the cruiser. Sarek easily walked into the open door, leaving her on the shields to steel herself. He turned to face her and almost warily offered his hand out. It looked as though he was bracing himself.

Amanda was very aware that Vulcans did not like touching – and she assumed it was because they simply didn’t like it, being as closed off as they are. However, when Valkh had offered a handshake, Sarek’s reaction made it clear it was more than a simple matter of preference. She didn’t understand it, and it made her hesitate to accept his hand.

But it’s not as though she had many options.

As soon as she reached out, her heart jumped into her throat, and she barely noticed Sarek catching her hand. Then, he practically yanked her into the cruiser.

As quick as Sarek grabbed her, he let go. He shut the compartment door closed and swiftly made his way to the console where he proceeded to input location. Within seconds, they were heading to the Learning Center.

Amanda slowly sat on the passenger seat, and Sarek hardly looked at her. But his hand was clenched at his side. She could still feel an echo of heat on her fingers.

She shook herself out of her fear-induced paralysis and pulled out her PADD.

Although security measures prevented employees from accessing the data outside the Learning Center, she was able to see the activity of the perpetrator in real time. “Whoever this is, they’re currently looking at the data we collected this past week.”

“Are you able to shut it down?”

“No. I can’t do anything from here. I can only tell from my activity logs.”

Amanda frowned as she scrolled through the person’s actions. “I don’t understand. It’s only been two weeks – we don’t have anything substantial yet.”

“Is anyone here besides your colleagues aware of the purpose of your work? Or that you even conduct research there?”

“No. Every faculty member, including us, have signed a confidentiality agreement regarding anything done in there for the privacy of the students.” She paused. “But Valkh was interested in my research.”

“You told him?” The flatness of Sarek’s tone indicated disbelief, as if he was handling a child’s reckless decision.

“ _No_. He just knew about it.” She rubbed her temples. “He knew a lot of things actually. My name – though I had never told him it – and what passenger shuttle I was on, and that you were also on it. He knew that with your approval, my research bypassed the Ministry of Science’s typical regulations. Valkh was trying to intimidate me.”

“Valkh is a respected Minister of Vulcan’s High Command. He would not rely on inadequate and ineffectual methods.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything off about him? Especially now that _this_ is happening right after he took interest in my work.”

“My _feelings_ are of no matter. We must have an unbiased view relying on certainty and logic – not feelings or rumors. To ‘jump into conclusions’ is to distort the truth by making assumptions – thus, your vague connection between your conversation and this lacks substantial grounds.”

Rumors? “You’re hiding something.”

Sarek almost looked indignant. “Vulcans do not lie.”

“Withholding information does not make it a whole truth, either,” Amanda countered. “Now, tell me, who is this guy?”

Rather suddenly, the cruiser jostled onto a landing pad. She scowled, pretty sure that the rough landing was intentional – ‘jumping to conclusions’ be damned.

Almost every building in Vulcan had some sort of landing pad on the roof. Only the important people – such as the Director of the Learning Center – were able to fly in and park there. But it was almost 2200 Galactic Time, and no one should be here except for them.

Amanda quickly gained access to the center using her PADD. A notification appeared on her screen when they entered – the same one that was sent to her when the other person – the hacker – gained entry as well. It was pitch black, but immediately white lights flooded the hall.

“The last activity came in 72 seconds ago,” said Amanda as they entered the turbo lift. She pressed the button for her floor. “They are still looking at the data.”

Right before the lift opened, Amanda belatedly wondered what they would even do if they caught the person. What if they were violent? She had attended some free basic self-defense and phaser-shooting Federation classes with Aisha, but they were honestly more for kicks than for proficiency. Amanda didn’t even have a phaser, and she doubted Sarek had one, unless he had it hidden somewhere in that robe of his.

The hall was empty, but the motion lights were already on. Amanda brushed past Sarek and quickly made her way to her office.

But on her fourth step, a sudden grip on her elbow rather forcefully yanked her to the side. For her credit, part of her recognized it was Sarek, and she hardly so much as gasped as he pushed them into a dark room. Sarek was much stronger than a typical human, and she would have gracelessly fell over if he didn’t grab her other arm as well to stabilize her.

Though Amanda could not hear anything, she felt Sarek freeze, so she did as well.

The room was actually a utilities closet – full of office supplies and spare teaching equipment, but smaller than a broom closet. It was incredibly awkward trying to fit with a species who naturally had longer limbs than humans. It did not help that one of her legs was uncomfortably tangled in her gown’s skirt and caught between Sarek’s side and the door. Her forearm had instinctively flown forward and was pushing against Sarek. They were caught in a strange embrace – her trying to push him away so as not to completely fall on his chest and he gripping onto her upper arms, so she didn’t buckle under her awkwardly placed leg.

Amanda squashed her discomfort and embarrassment – it was his fault they were caught like this after all. And soon, she heard the faint sound of a sliding door opening. Whoever was here, they were checking the conference rooms. she didn’t hear someone on the other side so much as saw a flicker of light from the gap beneath the door. Looking down, she held her breath, as she saw a shadow pause as well.

To her relief, the shadow moved on.

Careful not to move, she glanced up at Sarek. His head was tilted in a purposeful way, and she saw his pointed ear _twitch_ as he strained to hear the retreating figure. It was then that she realized the heady scent of warm spice, something akin to cedar – not unlike Vulcan tea – was coming from him. Thank goodness it was dark enough to hide her warming cheeks.

Finally, he glanced down at her, and he seemed momentarily taken aback, as though he had just realized she was still there. With little prompt, the door slid open.

Catching herself before she completely over, Amanda tried not to look miffed. Rather, she quickly made her way to her office.

The door was locked, so she used her PADD to enter.

It was unsurprisingly empty. Sarek immediately ordered, “Stay in here,” before purposely striding back to the turbolift.

Although Amanda itched to jump into her computer, she first turned her lights off and swiftly moved towards her windows, which overlooked the front ground entrance of the Learning Center. Amanda opened her PADD.

It was dark outside, but there were a few lights that illuminated the front area. The Learning Center was in the middle of the city, but there wasn’t anyone outside.

A flicker of movement caught her attention. Darker than a shadow, a figure emerged from the building, and she immediately began recording. She couldn’t tell much, except that they seemed tall and lean, like a Vulcan.

They moved briskly eastward. But when the person passed underneath the window, they stopped. Amanda couldn’t see well herself, but she was pretty sure they could see her, even though she turned off the lights. She guessed it only made sense that Vulcan might as well have superior sight, because why not?

She didn’t move until they continued walking away and disappeared into an alleyway.

By the time Sarek had come back up, Amanda was already on the computer and pulling up the data files. She nodded towards her PADD on the desk. “I believe I caught a video of the person, but it doesn’t show much.”

“Is there anything amiss in your computer?”

“As far as I can tell, he only searched through the data.”

“Would he have been able to tell what your work is? What you are testing?”

“Not really. This data is raw. It consists of millions of data points that when utilized correctly – meaning you would already have to know what to do in the first place – can represent brain waves. But there’s also the reading examination scores from the kids’ first trials. He would’ve likely recognized that, but that doesn’t really say much.”

“Where does your team do data analysis?”

“Back at the Earth Embassy.”

The Ambassador stooped over her PADD and zoomed in on the video, but he similarly did not seem to identify any pronounced features. “I will contact the Ministry of Defense for permission to access the security footage within the area. Breaking into an academic institution on Vulcan is a federal offense.”

“Wait – do you mean they would open an investigation?”

“Yes.”

“I am not familiar with Vulcan laws, but are investigations released to the public?”

Sarek abruptly straightened and began to slowly pace about the room. “Not immediately. Any situation regarding a breach in academic institutions are considered to be on par with attacking the state itself. We hold high regard for our education systems – it is what binds and grounds us. They would hold the information, allowing only relevant officials to be aware of this.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Like the High Command?”

“I may not be entirely aware of Earth’s laws,” began Sarek dryly. “But suggesting a government official – a minister – is extremely consequential and requires substantial evidence. Why are you so confident to believe that Minister Valkh is keen on knowing the nature of your work?”

“You tell me. You’ve heard things about him, haven’t you?”

Sarek considered her, and she was keenly aware that while she was sitting at her desk, he stood above her with his Vulcan height. Once again, Amanda was reminded by how intimidating he was. She’s gotten used to it after enduring him several times, and she found she actually enjoyed talking to him. But, currently, Amanda felt as though Sarek was dissecting the possible ways this could play out – dissecting _her_.

“I have heard from a fellow acquaintance, whom was present at our initial meeting –”

“Velik?” She didn’t like that Vulcan. He was quite against the idea of treating students with L’Tak Terai.

“Yes. He informed me that Valkh has ascended rather quickly up into the ranks of Minister. Valkh is the sixth and youngest son of the S’Pal Tersa – a prominent Shi’Kahr family. While his siblings have made impressive careers of themselves in science research fields, he became a historian. Specifically, his research centers on Surak’s teachings and connecting it to the historical events around its creation. Other than that, his career is rather unremarkable. But his sudden ascent to the top of the government has caused some apprehension.”

“Was he elected?”

Sarek gave a short nod. “It was unlikely that he would have sufficient numbers of voters. His predecessor was well approved and aiming for a second term, but he was unexpectedly usurped by Valkh, who managed to gain a significant amount of unforeseen support. Now that he is a minister, he will be able to play a large role in the upcoming vote over the Articles of Association.”

Realization dawned on Amanda. “He’s one of those extremists you mentioned.”

“Perhaps. His recent bonding to Admiral Patar likely suggests their views are aligned.”

“Valkh’s wife is Admiral Patar?” Amanda remembered seeing the icy woman just hours ago. “But she’s part of Starfleet. That is the epitome of interstellar alliance.”

“Indeed. She is one of the admirals who runs Section 31. But the nature of their work is classified, even to me. I assume her own work deals with the more unsavory parts of the Federation, and likely does not accurately represent the Federation’s goals. She is quite vocal about her disapproval of Earth’s large role in running the Federation.”

This is completely insane. Amanda only came to Vulcan to work on her life’s work – not to find herself tangled up in some Vulcan fanatics’ plot to disassemble the partnership between Vulcan and Earth.

Sarek continued, “While I am reluctant to assign responsibility onto this pair, I do agree that filing a case would be an unnecessary risk to you and your team. If extremists are the cause of this, they are likely suspicious of your presence in an academic institution.”

Amanda raised an eyebrow. Sarek rarely reversed his decisions, especially to match up with hers. “Alright. So, we’re just going to ignore this?”

"I will conduct my own private inquiry, but until then -" He walked around the desk and gestured to her computer. “May I?”

Amanda nodded and made to stand, but Sarek ignored her offer to take a seat and immediately began typing so fast she could hardly keep up. She watched lines of code rapidly cross her screen, and she realized it was literally in another language. 

“I probably should’ve asked this first, but what are you doing?”

“Adding additional security. Your PADD ID code was likely stolen, and I am adding facial confirmation on your PADD to be required for computer access. The computer is already well protected from any outside intruders. Furthermore, if you would allow me, I will temporarily take your PADD with me after we part.”

“Why?”

“Often, a PADD’s ID can only be copied in close vicinity of a hacking device. These typically leave residual bytes that form a kind of fingerprint. I plan to do my best to decrypt it and find any clues on this hacker.”

“How long will it take?”

“Likely one week. I trust you have a second or backup PADD?”

Amanda bit her lip. She trusted Sarek, but in this time and age, parting from your PADD was like parting from your child. “Alright.”

Sarek turned around to face her and leaned against her desk. “It will take seven minutes to process.”

Amanda checked her PADD, and her eyes widened in surprise. “It’s almost midnight.”

“The gala has likely ended.”

She grimaced. “I’m so sorry. I doubt this is how you thought this night would turn out.”

“Your apology is illogical. It was my decision to come investigate as my duty as ambassador and admittedly out of interest. Furthermore, you did not hack your own computer.” He paused. "Moreover, I hold no affection for such tedious events."

“Won’t others have found your absence suspicious?”

“Perhaps. But as a diplomat, I am very rarely required to explain myself,” he replied wryly.

Amanda sighed, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. Neither of them had thought to turn back on the light, and she couldn’t see Sarek that well. However, the dim light from the skyline washed them in soft light, along with the white of the computer screen. It was enough to see Sarek’s hands were clasped on his lap and him as still as a statue. The light illuminated the sharp angles of his face – a mirage of light and shadows.

“It’s a shame. The music was actually really lovely,” she said, referencing his earlier question from when they were on the balcony.

“My impression was that you did not wish to return for the second act.”

Amanda waved her hand. “It wasn’t out of dislike. It was just… overwhelming. I’ve never heard anything like it. I couldn’t even breathe when listening.” She let out a small laugh. “I even _cried_.”

Sarek looked down at her curiously. “I do not comprehend. You cry when you are happy?”

How does she even explain this to a Vulcan? “Humans do sometimes. But I wasn’t happy per say. Just incredibly moved, so much so that I got overwhelmed.”

“It is always fascinating to learn the complexities of human emotions. However, you are not the sole person to be affected by the music like so. It is not uncommon for Vulcan music to elicit such a response in other races.”

“Now I don’t understand that.” She turned to face him, but he had already focused his attention outside the window. “How are Vulcans able produce such powerful and emotional pieces, when you don’t have the emotions themselves?”

He finally looked at her, his dark eyes calculating. She had the impression she said the wrong thing. “What you say is a common misconception. Emotions run deeply in our race – perhaps more so than humans.”

“Clarify.”

Sarek raised an eyebrow at the common Vulcan request. She’s spent a long time with Vulcan children. “Even by Earth standards, we were once an extremely violent and emotional people. It is said wars among us ravaged our lands, and we very nearly wiped out our own kind, as we were so consumed with our own paranoia and bloodlust. That was until Surak created the philosophy that every Vulcan follows today – emotions are to be controlled and repressed, and logic will make our decisions. Even now, some of that clearly lingers in our most ancient rituals. Only with logic can we have control over our lives.”

She found that she couldn’t think as well with his intensity focused on her. “That’s beautiful, in a way. So, you just repress your emotions? And choose not to feel them?”

“Yes. We may not always be successful, but it took generations to refine the process – until it even became a more physical aspect of our being. Our mind grew stronger – more capable of control and restraint.”

“Then why, do you not always understand human feelings, if you have them yourself?”

He spoke carefully, as though not to encourage anymore misconceptions. “We may have emotions, but they are not entirely similar to that of humans. There are also emotions such as curiosity, amusement, pleasure, anger, fear – all are recognizable to Vulcans. We believe these sensations to be universally necessary across most races. Other emotions that human speak of, however, we do not… understand. Furthermore, our devotion to logic begins at a very early age. We learn how to detach our emotions and maintain that during stressful situations. Very rarely do we put a name to a feeling. Thus, having begun to repress emotions at such an early age, it is quite –” Sarek paused “- _easy_ for us to forget what a certain emotion is.”

It sounded quite sad to her. “It must be incredibly difficult to rein in one’s nature.”

“It can be. But with diligence and faith, it can be as effortless as breathing. It is, however, a lifelong process. A Vulcan often requires an outlet of sorts to center oneself – typically, meditation. But some find peace in music.”

Amanda reflected back to the performance and smiled. “It’s strange. It reminded me of this recording I heard when I was a child – of wind moving through Saturn’s rings.”

When she focused on Sarek, she was surprised at what she saw. He was softer, somehow. She couldn’t place how exactly, but maybe it was the eyes.

“The piece you speak of was written by a Vulcan of seven years.”

Amanda lifted her head in wonder. “That was written by a child? A seven-year-old child?”

“Yes. Vulcans consider childhood to be a crucial point in our lives. It is when we are able to learn from our mistakes and begin to understand how to direct and repress our emotions. It is also when our emotions are the most raw and unrefined. Often, our best works are created by children. Historians say that this child woke up from her dream of the stars, picked up her _ka’athyra_ , and tried to create the stars itself.”

She laughed. “That is beautiful. I wish humans could be as poetic.”

They lapsed into a silence, until Amanda shook herself out of her reverie. “Oh, the update finished loading.”

It wasn’t long until they found themselves back in Sarek’s cruiser. After his prompting, Amanda input her address.

They didn’t say much, but the silence wasn’t daunting in any way. Amanda couldn’t help but feel a noticeable shift in their dynamic. Before, their relationship was built out of mutual respect and circumstance. But now, maybe – just maybe – it was a friendship.

Amanda stared out the window for most of the ride. They flew on the higher levels and waved through the skyscrapers. All the while, the stars offered a familiar sight in this alien world. “It’s humbling to know that night is night – no matter where you are in the universe.”

Sarek didn’t seem to really hear her. She couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but she believed he was contemplative.

Indeed, it wasn’t until they landed on her rooftop and she was about to enter her building that Sarek finally called her name.

Amanda looked back and saw him standing at the doorway of his cruiser. For once, his hands were clasped in front of him, rather than behind, as he stood. “I have observed that humans can be quite poignant as well, and just as poetic.”

Amanda couldn’t fight the smile that appeared, but his door had already shut. Hardly a second later, the cruiser had lifted and disappeared into the horizon. Sarek liked to have the last word, she noticed. Or maybe he was simply just not one to dwell.


	6. Learned Helplessness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amanda's outfit: https://pin.it/1WKs6VL

_Learned helplessness is a state that occurs after a person has experienced a stressful situation repeatedly. They come to believe that they are unable to control or change the situation, so they do not try — even when opportunities for change become available._

* * *

While Vulcan’s legislative processes were overall more straightforward than Earth’s convoluted ones, it was becoming increasingly apparent to Sarek that the decision on whether Vulcan will stay in or leave the Federation will not come anytime soon. 

To be clear, it was inevitable that the Articles of Association will pass, thus allowing Vulcan’s planetary relationships to continue as usual. The opposing party was small, and the probability that they will swing some votes their way is quite slim. So Sarek was not concerned about whether reratificiation will pass, but rather the hidden agenda that was no doubt being conducted during this process.

It did not come as a shock to see Minister Valkh at the forefront of the opposition. He had been taciturn about his views on the matter in the weeks leading up to these proceedings. From what Minister T’Pol has informed Sarek, Valkh had been keeping to himself and saying little. Until now. Now, Valkh speaks at the proceedings with substantial and organized arguments that suggests long-term preparation.

It did not ease Sarek to see Valkh’s bondmate in the front seats either. Admiral Patar would have been a force to be reckoned with if she herself was minister. Sarek has heard her speak before at Federation congregations. Her words were as precise and cutting as a knife. She builds her arguments by systematically cutting at the foundation of the opposition, leaving little time for the other to make repairs. But her ties to the Federation have, rather ironically, restricted her from directly partaking in these debates.

However, it did not prevent Sarek from recognizing Patar’s words coming out of Valkh’s mouth.

The most striking about Valkh’s opposition was that it was hardly an attack at all. Instead of directly refuting the other side’s arguments, he would proceed to launch into a tangent about the true meaning of Surak’s teachings and how “outsiders” have been diluting and blindsiding Vulcans from what was truly important. Frankly, it sounded more like he was preaching rather than debating.

It had been quite obvious from the moment Valkh spoke that the goal wasn’t to stop the proceedings – it was to use this platform to promote these fanatics’ propaganda. All of the sessions have been and are to be streamed live into every Vulcan’s home. In Vulcan, democracy truly came from the people. Every citizen valued their duty to follow current political debates and decisions. Thus, Valkh is able to spread this perverse doctrine of superiority and the threat of culture dilution.

It did not help that the Raal state government was not cooperating. They continued to –

A soft rustle interrupted Sarek’s state of meditation. With both legs beneath him and sitting upright, he had been kneeling at the center of a pavilion commonly used for such mental exercises. He slowly opened his eyes and only saw dark red leaves scraping against the red clay after being disturbed from the wind. Sarek deftly stood up in one swift movement and briskly brushed off the faint red dust marks from his light coat.

Sarek glanced around the pavilion and mostly saw the untamed Vulcan vegetation that covered this natural reserve. Light streaked through the leaves and branches and casted slanted shadows on the ground. He estimated the Eridani star would set within 70 minutes.

A figure in cream stood out amongst the scarlet field. Using the stone paths, Sarek weaved his way over to Amanda. She was leaning over a rope to read a plaque about the _pel-tar’uk_ plant. A thin white scarf was loosely wrapped to cover most of her dark brown hair. His eyes were drawn to the subtle movement of her pale tan skirt brushing against the back of her calves as she straightened and turned to him.

Sarek gave a short bow. “How long since you have arrived?”

Amanda smiled and shifted her tote to the side. A thin layer of perspiration shone on her skin. “Not long. I didn’t want to disturb you, so I began looking around a bit.” She nodded towards the green shrubs. “This little guy looks quite interesting.”

“The _pel-tar’uk_ ’s berries are equipped with poisonous spikes that have been used throughout history as weapons. They are able to inject a neurotoxin that induces vomiting and violent cramps, followed with a fever.”

She snorted. Sarek has never quite understood why humans found humor in violence, so he swiftly continued. “And in response to your first statement, interrupting me would have been no matter.”

“It would’ve still been interrupting your meditation,” she insisted. Amanda sat on a nearby stone bench beneath the vegetation’s shade. It wasn’t until Amanda gestured that he sat at the other end of the bench. “Rough day?”

“It was the second day of proceedings.”

She raised her eyebrows. “How has that been going?”

“It is concerning. Valkh appears content to promote his doctrines to the public rather than providing direct counters to the reratification of the Articles.”

“Do you believe he’d even succeed in swaying Vulcans to his cult? I always thought that Federation planets including Earth benefitted from the boost in research and technology.”

“Vulcan as well has found a strong place in the Federation, and most Vulcans would dismiss his words. It is the traditionalists that are more likely to be swayed. They value logic above all, and often see the Federation as a failed or doomed experiment.”

“How so? With the Federation, we saw an unprecedented burst of new technologies, discoveries, and allies.”

“Along with a sharp rise in interstellar wars and weapons. Now that we are on the topic of weapons - ” Sarek pulled out her PADD “- I found that your PADD indeed had remnant information from the hacking device used. This device is Vulcan-manufactured and commonly used in the government for security threats. It is able to copy any data-holding instrument’s ID and can further mimic its makeup. Only higher officials would have access to such a device.”

He handed it over to her, which she gingerly accepted. “I took it upon myself to reset your PADD. It retains its information, but you will need to reach out to your contacts due to a change in its ID. They will not be able to reach you using your old one.”

He did not mention that he had found a tracking code embedded into her PADD. He had removed it, but clearly somebody wanted to know her coming and goings. Amanda’s research is important, yes. But he still failed to see how it plays a role in this strange game. 

Amanda sighed and placed it in her bag. “It sucks that it got hacked but thank you. And thank you for meeting with me.”

“It was I who requested,” Sarek clarified. “Meeting you near our workplaces would only achieve in gathering more unsavory attention. But I admit, I did not expect you to pick this location.”

She gave a sheepish smile. “Honestly, I got the idea of natural reserve from Valkh. I think he was trying to freak me out with his whole ‘natural selection – the weak do not survive in Vulcan, et cetera’ talk, but he made me realize that I haven’t been around to any of the parks yet.”  
Amanda stood up and gestured around. “I don’t want to keep you if you have other duties or simply need rest. But you are more than welcome to join me for a walk if you have the time.”

Sarek admittedly has been rather exhausted. He and his team has spent the past four days in preparation for today’s session and slept little. The first session was five days ago, but that consisted of mainly preliminary information and was thus stifled with tedious traditions. Today’s was the first in which they truly dug into the belly of the _le-matya_. And it did not help that his mother was constantly requesting for his presence.

Yet he found himself disposed to stay. Conversing with Amanda would be a refreshing change in pace after these past few days. Furthermore, he reasoned Earth customs would dictate it rude to deny an offer.

“I am inclined to stay and join you.”

She gave him a slanted smile, and he followed her as she picked a path. The most logical and effective route about this reserve would be to circle the outer rims of the reserve and move inward much like a spiral. But Amanda chose to head straight towards the center.

“Have you been here before?”

“Two times as an adolescent. It is common for Vulcans to visit natural reserves such as this in preparation for their _kahs-wan_.”

Amanda simply glanced back towards him. He recognized her raise of an eyebrow indicating an insufficient explanation.

“ _Kahs-wan_ is a tradition undergone by adolescents in preparation for adulthood. They are to survive ten rotations without any given food, water, or supplies in undomesticated lands such as Vulcan’s Forge.”

The path widened, and Amanda fell back beside him. He was curious to see her reaction and found that she simply looked puzzled. He has had enough interactions with her to recognize her eyebrows furrowing and her lips slanting just so. “For what reason? I don’t see the logic in dropping kids out in the middle of the dessert.”

“That is precisely the crux of the _Kahs-wan_. We were once a warrior race, but during the Time of the Awakening, we began to uphold the logic philosophy. However, there were trepidations that a solely logic-based lifestyle would make us weak. Thus, we have preserved and continued ancient practices such as the _Kahs-wan_ to test our courage and strength.”

They reached a fork and Amanda gestured for him to pick as she asked, “Aren’t parents terrified of letting their kids run around loose out there? What happens if they get hurt?”

It would be counterproductive to head back out towards the edges, so he picked the left path. It led them down to a narrow path between two tall walls of red rock. A natural stream must have formed and cut through hundreds of years ago.

“It is expected of every child to undergo this, but parents do concern themselves with ensuring their offspring will succeed. Thus, I, like most children, trained in Vulcan martial arts and learned about the terrain by visiting these nature reserves. However, should a child be harmed, they are able to decide whether or not to continue. Some choose to bring a honing device and are able to signal for help. There is no disgrace in failing, but they are expected to try again.”

“And you?” Amanda asked, as they reached an impasse. The ground raised up suddenly by three feet. It would be easy for a Vulcan to pass through, but Amanda had to consider the height before placing her hand flat against one of the walls. Warily, Sarek prepared for her possible fall as he saw her muscles tense.

Amanda pushed herself up and managed to jump on top. She turned victoriously with a grin and shifted back to make room for him. The sun behind her silhouetted her figure and made her hair appear more auburn than brunette. “How did your _Kahs-wan_ go?”

He rather easily leaped onto the platform in a fluid motion, and he found himself only a breath away from Amanda. She gave out a short laugh out of surprise, and he could see she appeared quite winded. “You know what? I’m sure it went fine.”

“Indeed. I was well prepared for most aspects of the _Kahs-wan_.”

“‘Most’?”

“On my fourth day, I miscalculated the structural integrity of a branch and fell into bushels of _kylin’the_.”

“And?”

Sarek frowned. “And these plants have sap that are capable of healing blisters and other superficial wounds. However, they are also coated in a layer of bristles that are quite difficult to pull out and cause unpleasant rashes.”

Amanda – unsuccessfully – attempted to withhold her laughter, which he believed to be for his benefit. But since she was failing, he raised an eyebrow.

“I’m so sorry,” she laughed, and he remained unconvinced. “Imagining you as a kid covered in rashes is the saddest thing ever.”

“I managed to rid of its effects a few days afterwards using its own sap.” Sarek paused as he listened to her fading laughter. It was pleasant, he supposed. Like bells. “However, I did make a choice to refrain from informing others about that unfortunate incident.”

“Oh, so you _do_ get embarrassed. But don’t worry – your secret will stay with me.”

“I simply found the incident irrelevant to my success.”

“Of course,” she said seriously.

Sarek nodded, satisfied. “I also underwent the Rite of _Tal’oth._ It is similar in nature except it lasts for four months and participants are given a single blade.” 

“Do all kids do it?”

“It is meant for young adults, not long after maturation. I was forty-two years old at the time.”

Amanda suddenly fell behind, and Sarek turned to see she had stopped to stare at him. “Forty-two?”

“Yes. That is typical for the Rite of _Tal’oth_.”

Amanda tilted her head, and Sarek sensed she was studying his face.

“Okay, I have to ask. How old are you?”

He paused. “In Earth years, sixty-two.”

“You don’t _look_ sixty-two.”

“Vulcan life expectancy is two-hundred years, approximately twice as long as humans.”

Amanda shook her head in disbelief and began to walk while fanning her face. “The more I learn about Vulcans, the more I am more inclined to agree that you guys are the superior race.”

How curious. “Clarify.”

They came across another stone bench, which Amanda immediately sat upon. Sarek followed her and noticed that she was perspiring quite a bit and her breaths were shallower. “You are overheating.”

Amanda first pulled out a canteen and drank deeply. “Just a bit, but nothing serious. Vulcan is really as hot as they say.”

“Vulcans have a higher internal body temperature and are able to endure such temperatures.”

“See, it’s the physical stuff like that,” explained Amanda. She resumed using her hand to fan her face. “Vulcans live longer, have more sensitive sense, and are stronger, faster. You all can fight, play music, and are insanely smart. I’m not hating on humans – I am biased, after all – but I could see how the extremists are able to insist we are not needed in Vulcan.”

“Much you speak of is simply due to the conditions of Vulcan itself and are subjective. For example, in a colder climate, humans will fare better than Vulcans. We have also evolved with a greater gravitational force making us ‘stronger’, along with a thinner atmosphere that has allowed our lung system to evolve into a larger structure compared to humans in order to obtain sufficient oxygen levels. This would allow us to have greater stamina and speed on high oxygenated planets.”

“Subjective or not, it still sounds as though Vulcans would be able to survive many things that humans would not.” She shrugged. “It’s certainly humbling.”

Amanda’s cheeks were still flushed pink – a fascinating detail due to her crimson iron blood – and appeared to still lack sufficient oxygen content. Sarek fell silent to allow her to save her breaths and elevate her oxygen levels.

But after a few minutes, he felt her turn to him. “May I ask you something?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you decide to become Vulcan’s Ambassador to Earth?”

It was uncommon to ask such personal questions on Vulcan. But similarly, with his age, Sarek did not feel it too strange to respond. But he did take care on choosing his words. There were some parts of his past that he did not wish to disclose. “It was not my primary intention to enter the realm of politics. My interest was within the realm of astrophysics, and I was a researcher at the Vulcan Science Academy. But my grandfather, Solkar, was Vulcan’s Ambassador to Earth at the time, and he invited me to assist him in his duties. When he retired, he recommended me for the position.”

“Well, I suppose I am then asking why you stayed.”

Sarek considered this question, and this time, he did not attempt to filter his thoughts. “My visits to Earth exposed me for the first time of the greater part of the universe. Contrary to what some of my Vulcan counterparts believe, I see great potential in humans. And while we depend on logic to maintain balance and order within ourselves and our civilization, humans are stronger as they are. Your people can be passionate and emotional, but it allows a unique approach that my people simply cannot mimic. Like the _Kahs-wan_ , humans remind us that we cannot simply rely on pure logic. I find it of great importance to maintain a bridge between our people.”

Amanda stood up, tucking her scarf more securely. “Out of most races, I always saw Vulcans as the most similar. We have our extreme differences, but I personally considered your people the most relatable in terms of similar morals and goals. It was just our approach that varied. But I do believe friendship, rather than a partnership, between our people is possible. I mean look at us.”

She said the last phrase so indifferently, as her kind often do.

Sarek pointed out, “‘Friendship’ is a human concept to show preference to another individual outside the family for a source of amusement and support.”

“You’re saying that Vulcans just don’t make any friends?”

“The most analogous term we have is _t’hy’la_. It is typically more significant than a human’s friendship and is not commonly used, as it indicates a very close bond. It could mean the human’s equivalent of ‘friend’, ‘brother’, or ‘lover’.”

Amanda’s cheeks remained pink. “Ah. Well then if the word is barely used, then who do you talk to?”

“It is common to have colleagues or acquaintances one is familiar with, mainly due to the realm of one’s work or societal circle. Close families often create bonds that last for generations. The basis of these relationships is formed out of respect and history. But the human definition of friendship, _your_ definition, is melded by affection and marked by the level of personal knowledge between a pair. It inherently requires an emotional connection. My people are private and see such a personal display as unseemly.”

“Ah.” Amanda glanced at him, frowning. “I hope I didn’t just make you uncomfortable then.”

Sarek reflected on back when the two were at the Hall of Ministry’s upper decks, and he had offered a hand to help Amanda into his cruiser. At the time, Sarek had mentally steeled himself for the brush of emotions he would have to endure in touching her.

But Sarek was not ready for the sheer onslaught of _her_ that overtook him. It was staggering – her fear, doubt, excitement. Her human emotions felt remarkably alike to his, but the volume of it was greater than he has ever felt. He had quickly let go to prevent himself from being overwhelmed, but it left behind a great deal of confusion. He had expected to simply feel a whisper of her emotions, which was typical when Vulcans first touch someone new.

It caused him to reflect deeply that night. He had to meditate, of course, to center himself after his own balance was thrown off-guard. Sarek did not realize until then that their relationship had moved past general acquaintances. They knew each other well enough for him to simply just _slip_ into her current.

Now, as Sarek sat with her in this place he has not been since his child, he once again had another revelation – she knew more about him after two months than any of his colleagues whom he has known for years. He certainly appreciates her companionship, but it was also logical to address whether it was appropriate.

Humans are able to easily form close relationships in a short amount of time. But Vulcans look at extrafamilial relationships in a calculative way. Their acquaintances fit in a certain role – often work colleague or similar societal circles. Conversation rarely strayed into the personal realm. To show a subjective preference towards a certain individual is considered rude and unbecoming. If the two of them were both Vulcans, it would be considered improper for an unbonded male and female at their mature ages to be together in private. But she is human and to subject her to these standards is impractical. Furthermore, to call her an acquaintance would also be illogical – his relationships with actual acquaintances are unable to accurately compare.

Sarek reasoned that as Amanda Grayson is human, it is not unexpected to form a human connection with her. “I cannot accurately define our relationship in Vulcan standards, so I am content to utilize the human definition of ‘friends’ to represent our relationship.”

Amanda glanced at him in surprise, but she let out a short laugh. “Let the record state that the first human-Vulcan friendship that was mutually received took place today, Stardate 2226.255.”

“How amusing.”

“I can’t even tell if you’re being sarcastic.”

He raised his eyebrow at her unabashed grin. “Amusement can be an intellectual response to certain stimuli – similar to curiosity. But sarcasm, after all, a Vulcan’s first defense against human emotions.”

They finally reached the central garden that appeared about 6 meters across. At its center, a small fountain trickled water down to the ground, where it flowed in a spiral around the garden and was only as wide as a hand. Orchids bloomed alongside the stream, forming a mesmerizing pinwheel pattern. However, a stone path weaved through the circle in an elaborate design that wove through the garden until it eventually reached the fountain, the origin of the stream.

Amanda walked ahead and immediately began to follow the path – almost out of an impulse, Sarek would say. After walking four steps, she paused and looked at him questioningly who stood waiting at the entrance.

“This labyrinth is commonly used for meditation, and it is custom that only one walks the path at a time.”

Amanda glanced around. “Is it a maze?”

“Not necessarily. A maze has multiple entrances and exits as well as dead ends. A labyrinth, however, has only one route and one end. The complexity of the journey is the importance of it, and it is meant for you to clear the mind and to only focus on the step before you.”

Amanda continued to follow the path in measured steps. Her gaze was cast downward, and her shadow rippled over the blooming orchids. She reached a point where she had to spin on her heels and reverse direction. As she turned, she flashed him a glance and asked, “Vulcans do this?”

“It is a simple Vulcan technique. There are those that are much longer and more complex, but this one in particular plays more of a symbolic and aesthetic role.”

But that did not seem to deter her from continuing. Indeed, Sarek realized she was smiling as she weaved back and forward. The path only took her through one quadrant of the circle, until she was directly west of the small fountain. But the path turned sharply all the way back to the edge of the circle where it began to enter the second quadrant. The orchids grew up only to her calves and as the garden was not that wide, Sarek was able to easily watch her from the side as she followed the stones.

Amanda tilted her head at Sarek and met his gaze. “You know, this is kind of fun.”

“I do not believe that is the intention.”

She spun around again. “Well, it reminds of that Greek myth about Daedalus and his labyrinth. Have you heard of it?”

“I am not familiar with most human mythologies.”

“According to the myth, a creature known as the Minotaur was born, and it was half human, half bull. It killed and devoured many people who lived in a kingdom. The king had a famous architect, Daedalus, build a labyrinth to contain the Minotaur and act as its prison.”  
“A convoluted but effective solution.”

“Perhaps. The labyrinth caused many tragedies.”

“Explain.”

Amanda reached the third quadrant. Her skirt brushed against the petals as she turned. His eyes were attracted to her elaborate hand gestures. “Well, the king had Daedalus and his son, Icarus, locked up in a tower to prevent anyone knowing about the labyrinth. To escape, Daedalus created wings made from metal and wax, so it resembled that of birds’. Icarus and Daedalus put them on and flew out the tower and over the sea. The father had warned his son not to fly too high, as the sun’s heat would melt the wax.”

Sarek listened curiously as her eyes retained a faraway look. “But the child felt so much joy from the freedom and exhilaration, and he forgot his father’s words. He was laughing and flew higher and higher, ignoring his father’s cries. The wax began to melt, and Icarus fell from the sky into the ocean where he drowned.”

“It is a lesson,” concluded Sarek. “As most mythologies are. The father is wise and did not allow his emotions to cloud his thoughts, while the child died due to being overwhelmed by his joy.”

“That is an incredibly Vulcan answer,” Amanda laughed. Now at the fourth quarter, she ended up right by the entrance where he stood.

She paused and took a drink of water as he raised an eyebrow. “Is it not correct?”

“Your answer is not incorrect, but it is rather literal. This is a human myth, after all. It is common for kids to undergo a ‘rebellious phase’ during when they begin to question authority. It allows them to learn from their mistakes and develop their own identity. I suppose I always saw it as a classic warning against youthful carelessness, not necessarily against emotions itself.”

“Yet the father, who restrained his emotions, survived.”

“That is true,” she conceded. “However, he is not immune to his emotions. Daedalus’ story continues such that he begins to take care of his nephew, Perdix. Daedalus begins to see that his nephew shows striking signs of ingenuity and realizes Perdix will surpass even him. Out of jealousy, Daedalus pushed Perdix to his death. A goddess turned Perdix into a partridge bird, and as punishment, marked Daedalus with a scar to forever remember his shame.”

“Another warning against emotions.”

Amanda laughed and threw her hands up in mock defeat. She turned to continue the final quadrant. “Honestly, that might be the case for every human myth. They all serve as warnings for our shortcomings – most often our inherent selfishness and hubris. My people and I – we know that human nature is far from perfect, but it is us.”

“I find your kind’s self-awareness quite fascinating. You acknowledge this fault but accept it for as it is as well.”

Amanda lightly shrugged. “I suppose if it is really in our nature, to rid of it completely is impossible. The best thing to do is accept that we are imperfect. Then teach every generation how to do better – how to _be_ better. Teach them our history and even these crazy myths and hope that they’ll learn from our own mistakes.”

Sarek contemplated as she neared the center of the garden. “This is not unlike my people’s dilemma in the past. But we decided to uphold the logic-based philosophy to change our perilous situation.”

“We don’t have nearly enough diligence to do that. I suppose we’ve just accepted it for how things are.”

The conversation ceased as Amanda reached the center of the garden. The Eridani star stood behind her and outlined her hand as it hovered over the red clay material of the fountain. “What do I do now?”

“Vulcans typically meditate or pray at the center and reflect on the feeling of the journey’s completion. But it is also common to drink from the fountain as a cleanse.”

Amanda carefully sat down on her knees beside the fountain. “Is it safe for me to drink?”

Sarek walked along the outer edges so that the fountain didn’t stand between them, and he met her eyes. “Yes. A pump pulls out groundwater, which is considered quite fresh.”

He could see rivulets of water slipping through her fingers while she experimentally touched the cascade flowing out of the spout. The fountain gracefully poured into staggered stone bowls that would overflow until it reached the stream below.

Amanda cupped her hands until filled with the sparkling clear liquid. She ducked her head and drank deeply.

But her light brown eyes glanced up and met his own. Suddenly, Amanda was grinning at him. It was so unbridled and free – _victorious_ – that for once, a foreign and almost blasphemous question intruded his thoughts. It had slipped past the foundation of his logic, and Sarek just as quickly repressed it.

Fortunately, Amanda quickly made her way back to him. Instead of retreating back to the path – as was custom – she hitched her skirt up with one hand and lightly jumped over the stream and paths until she finally leaped outside the labyrinth and landed beside him in a flurry of fabric.

Amanda adjusted her scarf as she flashed a smile. “Ready to head back?”

The pair walked back in mutual silence. The Eridani star was fading in the horizon fast, and the temperature was dropping more than Sarek was comfortable with. It seemed to rejuvenate Amanda, however, as she moved quicker and swifter than before.

They were close to the entrance when Amanda broke the silence. “Oh, also I was reached out to by a Learning Center in Raal. The director here had updated them on our progress, and Raal is interested in a possible collaboration with us.”

“That is impressive.”

“It's too early to say that.” Amanda shrugged. “They asked me to meet with them, and I was just wondering if you know much about the place.”

“Raal is a province like Shi’Kahr located 4 standard hours and 43 minutes from our current location by cruiser. The temperature is cooler than Shi’Kahr due to its close proximity by the Voroth Sea – one of Vulcan’s few bodies of water. As such, it is also more popular with tourists. Its main attractions include the Fire Plains and its markets.”

“So, I don’t need to be worried about traveling as a tourist? With language or anything like that?”

“I do not believe worry is necessary.” They reached the entrance of the reserve, and Sarek turned to her. “May I query when you depart and your method of transportation?”

Amanda shrugged on her thin coat as she replied, “I am supposed to meet them in two weeks – Stardate 267, so I planned on leaving by hypertrain on the 265thor 266th.”

“That is fortunate. My presence is also required on Raal. If you agree, I will permit you to accompany me on the journey there in my cruiser.”

Amanda had just pulled down her scarf to reveal a single plait beneath, and her hands froze in the fabric. Her light eyes were golden in the setting star's rays. “Wait, why are you going to Raal? And when do you need to be there?”

“Raal’s government has been rather uncooperative during these proceedings and have not yet sent a delegate. The High Command has requested I go speak to their own state council. I have no required timeline, so your date is agreeable.”

Amanda tugged on her plait. “I really don’t want to be a burden on you. You’ve already helped with the Learning center and my PADD –”

“It requires no effort on my part. Our agendas simply align and would save you effort as well. Besides, it is what I suspect _friends_ do.”

In that second, with Amanda smiling at him with pure human emotion, he remembered the question that had slipped into his mind. Sarek had _wondered_ – not thought, as that would require logic and reason – _just for a second_ , would it have really been so terrible if Vulcans had chosen to accept their true emotional natures as well?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the labyrinth path looks like (and the myth behind it): https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/evil-deeds/200911/why-myths-still-matter-part-three-therapy-and-the-labyrinth
> 
> Next chapter is one of my absolute favs because it's a trip for sure! As always, comments and questions are always appreciated!!


	7. The Lazarus Transactional Model of Stress

_The_ _Lazarus transactional model of stress proposes that stress involves an encounter between an individual and their external environment, and that a stress response depends upon the individual's interpretation of the stressor and their ability to cope with it._

* * *

Amanda had informed the director of the Learning Center that she would be out of town for four days – two of which were during the weekend. When she had asked Amanda on how she would be getting to Raal, she floundered for a moment as she debated on lying and saying by train. It just seemed too _weird_ to say otherwise, but maybe she was just making it weird? Yet Amanda felt like lying to a Vulcan was worse than lying to a human. Call it paranoia, but she felt like they would be able to just tell by looking at how she was breathing or maybe they could even hear a change in heartbeat – she had no idea and was not looking to try out her luck.

So, when Amanda simply said that the ambassador offered a ride, the director raised an eyebrow.

Amanda couldn’t blame her – she hardly understood the arrangement herself. But in classic Vulcan convention, the director refrained from asking what was likely deemed to be a too personal of question.

As for her friends, well – Amanda and Sarek agreed to not speak of the Learning Center’s break-in to anybody, so Amanda was left with no way to explain what she considered to be her and Sarek’s friendship bonding moment.

Granted, her explanation still wasn’t much. Simply, Ambassador Sarek had met with her for a routine check-in regarding her experiments, and he offered her a means of transportation to Raal – where he, himself, also had reason to be – when he heard of her own trip. The guys didn’t care much about it, but Aisha was much harder to convince. Aisha’s strangely specific questions would leave her spluttering and face red.

Amanda truly believed it was nothing. Sure, she was surprised about his offer. But it was really was the kindness that she didn’t expect. When Amanda thinks of Sarek, she first sees his impassivity and collective demeanor. She sees logic and duty. But there is also an underlying kindness and curiosity in him that she did not anticipate seeing.

But maybe there isn’t. It was still too hard to read him. Sarek has everything planned out by the dot, and if it was logical to him, she wasn’t going to question it.

Indeed, that’s why she was standing here now. Amanda had offered to meet at his work or wherever was easiest for him, but he had simply replied with instructions on how to get to her building’s landing deck. They had agreed to leave today at noon. It was the last day of work for the week, so she had allowed everyone to start the weekend early and take the rest of the day off. 

Amanda squinted up at the bright orange sky. Amanda really hoped Raal have a cooler climate like Sarek had informed.

Suddenly, a huge gust of wind whipped her face, and her clothes rippled back. She held into her scarf that had fallen off of its original placement on her head, and at exactly 1200 Galactic Time, Sarek’s curved cruiser landed on the pad. The doorway elegantly folded outwards to form a ramp.

Sarek was standing at the console when she entered. The entrance promptly closed behind her with a quiet click.

The last time she boarded his cruiser, Amanda didn’t really have a good chance to look around – she was quite amped up on adrenaline and worry as they had headed to the Learning Center. There was a narrow walkway leading up to the main console and was framed by elegant arches of light and steel. A wide window took up the expanse of the hull. At the other end of the ship, she could see a wide stairway that led to the smaller upper level – likely a suite for sleeping and longer travels. His cruiser was incredibly more impressive and contemporary than any of the previous ships she’s been on – whether human or Vulcan.

Amanda placed her sturdy duffle bag in a compartment and made her way to the front of the ship. The console was T-shaped with a section in the middle separating the pilot and copilot seats. She cautiously sat down on the copilot seat like she did last time. It was much cooler inside, and she wondered if that was intentional.

“Good afternoon,” she offered. “Thank you again for this.”

“As I have messaged you repeatedly,” Sarek said pointedly, his hands flying over the dashboards. Occasionally, the computer system would speak. It seemed as though he was completing the standard preliminary tests for long flights. “Your gratitude is unnecessary.”

“It’s a human thing.”

“I have noticed.”

Another example of Amanda not knowing whether the Vulcan was teasing, insulting, or simply stating. She decided with the latter.

Amanda knew she was staring, but she knew more about dirt than she did about flying. With her chair swiveled towards him, she rested her chin on her hand as she watched him make dozens of adjustments. She could not read most of the words, but she could recognize the universal symbols for battery, fuel, oxygen, and so on. She glanced down at the console that separated them, and it just confirmed that she really did not know anything about ships.

“Are you ready?”

She glanced up and saw him looking down at her. She must’ve looked alarmed.

“Ready when you are.”

He slowly pulled back a very official looking lever, and she felt the weight leave her body. Amanda leaned forward to watch as the buildings began to get smaller and smaller.

“We are not leaving the atmosphere, right?”

“Correct, as we will not engage in warp. Doing so would be a waste of fuel, so we will maintain an altitude of 10 kilometers – approximately 30,000 feet.”

A smooth, female voice interjected from above. “ _Destination: Vulcana Regar, Raal. Coordinates 29.759, -95.367. Estimated time of arrival: 1556 Galactic Time_.”

Listening to the soft hum of the cruiser, Amanda contented herself with watching the bustling city beneath her. The Eridani was shining especially brilliantly that day, and its rays reflected off the graceful towers. Hovercrafts weaved through the roads, and she wondered how they managed to not collide against one another at such speeds.

Soon, they flew past the city into Vulcan’s Forge – a vast valley of red stones and cliffs. Amanda saw a grey shadow approaching in the far horizon. “What is over there?”

“That is the L-langon Mountain Range. Its size is vast; it spans from here all the way to Raal. It is common for those participating in the _kahs-wan_ to head to its foothills. It provides more respite from the Eridani’s harsh rays and has sources of water and nourishment.”

Within minutes, they were flying over the mountains. It looked as rough and dangerous as the rest of Vulcan. She saw very little signs of life besides the occasional bush.

“Does anything live here?”

“Most notably is the _le-matya_. They are one of Vulcan’s most dangerous predators. They have a rough protective hide and claws and fangs that are coated with a toxin. If not cured within the hour, the poison will paralyze the victim and cause death – that is, if the _le-matya_ had not consumed the body yet.”

“That is terrifying.”

Sarek had finally sat down at the pilot seat. His back was ramrod straight, and one hand was resting on his knee while the other was on top of the console. “They are unagreeable,” he agreed. “They are a source of concern regarding the _kahs-wan_.”

Death from starvation and thirst or from getting poisoned and then eaten. Amanda thinks she’d pick the latter.

“Speaking of predators, Minister Valkh had stopped by the Learning Center yesterday.”

Sarek’s hand paused. He didn’t look away from the dashboard, but he tilted his head. “What for?”

“I didn’t speak with him. I was in one of the conference rooms with some students. Per protocol, I meet with them biweekly and provide an update over previous results. Havin said he found Valkh just outside observing through the window. Havin told him that he needed clearance to access the floor, and that he wasn’t allowed to be there.”

“Did Valkh speak?”

“Yes. Havin said that Valkh went on about being a minister and he just wanted to keep up with current research. He began asking questions to Havin about the experiments, but Havin wasn’t having it and made him leave. Apparently, Valkhdid not seem to like that.” Even just thinking about it made her skin itch.

Both of Sarek’s hands moved to his knees, and his chair turned slightly towards her. “That is curious. And do you believe Valkh could hear you speaking?”

“No. The room is soundproof. But it is possible he could’ve seen some of my data figures that showed statistics regarding types of reading errors being made.”

“When we return, I will ask him.”

Amanda looked at him incredulously. “You’re just going to straight up ask him?”

“That is indeed what I have said.”

His voice is always low and pronounced, but sometimes, his intonations and emphasis on certain words carries clear connotations. He is just so _snarky_ sometimes. “Wouldn’t that let him know that we are suspicious of him? It will give away our edge.”

“What ‘edge’ do you speak of?”

Amanda waved her hands around. “I don’t know – I just mean isn’t that just a bit confrontational?”

“I am aware that human customs value certain social niceties, but Vulcans do not find directness rude. It is simply a query.”

“What if he lies?”

“Vulcans do not lie.”

“Well, if I may be so _direct_ , isn’t that a bit naïve to believe?”

Sarek raised an eyebrow at her. Out of all of her interactions with him, she has come to recognize this is his sole expression he allows himself to display. It is one of skepticism or judgement, and one that she has been on the receiving end many, many times.

She raised a hand in defense. “I just mean if he did have some plot, he would not be inclined to reveal it just because you ask.”

“I believe being convincing is a trait I carry as Ambassador, as well as knowing when I am being deceived.”

“And as a developmental psychologist, I believe that all beings with conscious thoughts – even Vulcans – deceive.”

“You are a _human_ psychologist.”

“Well, there have been many theories that’re applicable for all sentient beings, including animals. Operant conditioning, observational learning, even affection, as shown by the Harlow experiments with monkeys – all of these transcend species.”

“I do not believe there is any correlation between _monkeys_ and Vulcans.”

“I doubt monkeys are as stubborn.”

This time, however, _both_ of Sarek’s eyebrows raised.

Amanda managed to stifle her laughter at what she could only perceive to be his indignation and attempted to hide her smile behind her hand. But she failed miserably, and she could swear he looked something akin to amused.

It was a pretty petty thing to say, she supposed. But she still wouldn’t admit it out loud.

It wasn’t long until she started feeling drowsy. The hum and pleasant coolness of the ship was rather pleasant. She felt the cushioned chair beneath her gently vibrating from the engine. The seat was larger than she was used to – likely to accommodate a taller Vulcan. She watched the grey mountains beneath zoom by. It was never-ending, and soon she couldn’t even see any sign of Vulcan’s red sand.

Legs pulled up to her chest and head propped up on her hand, it wasn’t long until she drifted asleep.

* * *

Amanda didn’t know what woke her up first – the rough jostling of the ship, Sarek’s shouting, or the computer AI’s female voice that calmly spoke, _“- sudden engine failure. Experiencing rapid decline in altitude. Currently at altitude of 28,000 feet. Estimated emergency landing in forty-four second_ s. _Warning: brace for impact._ ”

“ _Sarek._ ” She didn’t know how she managed not to scream. Actually, she was even more surprised that she was able to speak in the first place. Because right now, the nose of the ship was pointing straight down towards the craggy, pointy mountains. And they were falling. _Fast_.

Suddenly, automated restraints shot out of her seat and across her chest to form an X. She didn’t think she was breathing.

“Amanda.”

“ _Manual pilot override failed. Forty seconds. Warning: brace for impact.”_

“ _Amanda_.”

She managed to tear her eyes away to meet Sarek’s. He was also strapped in, except his chair was facing her as his hands flew across the middle console between them. He looked stupidly, frustratingly, unnaturally calm.

“What is happening?” she gasped out.

“Engine failure. It is most unusual, as I ran testing before we departed and saw no issues. I am uncertain of the cause.”

“Um –”

“ _95% power diverted to front shields. Thirty seconds. Warning: brace for impact.”_

She somehow managed to comprehend that Sarek was doing a last-ditch effort in saving them. At another time, his collectiveness and efficiency at the face of death would’ve typically impressed her, but right now, it inexplicably made her want to vomit.

“So, uh. Are we going to die?” At least her voice was steady.

Sarek didn’t glance back up, but he spoke quickly, as if he was competing with death to have the last word. “We will likely collide into the mountain range with a velocity of 562 meters per second and a force of 664 meganewtons. The front shields are able to withstand a force of 750 meganewtons with an error range of 100 meganewtons, so there is a 28% chance the shields will hold.”

_“Request to transmit message to Raal Airbase failed. Twenty seconds. Warning: brace for impact.”_

This is quite literally her worst fear. She numbly thought about crying, but there did not even seem to be time for that.

“Amanda. Do you recall the lines for _Keethera_?”

Amanda ripped her eyes away from the incoming ground in a mix of outraged disbelief. “ _What?”_

“If you do, please say it out loud.” Sarek briefly met her eyes before paying attention to the console between them. His eyes were dark and unfathomable as ever, and his hands flew like a musician over the controls. But even now, he sounded so incredibly patient.

She recalled the time he first spoke it to her – they were first landing on Vulcan, and even then, he comforted a woman he hardly knew. Maybe that was his intent now, or maybe, he also needed to hear it as well. “S-structure. Logic. Function. Control – _”_

_“Warning: brace for impact. Ten seconds. Nine. Eight.”_

_“–_ The structure cannot stand without a foundation –”

_“Seven. Six. Five.”_

“Logic is the foundation of function. Function is the essence of control.”

“ _Four. Three.”_

“I am in control,” she gasped.

“ _Two.”_

Sarek looked up at her, and for a second, everything stilled. She couldn’t speak, so Sarek finished it for her.

“I am in control.”

“ _One.”_

A flash of blue. And then, nothing.

* * *

“ _Ship syst – system is critical. Emergency pow - power at 8%.”_

A searing pain stabbed into Amanda’s temple. Amanda moaned, but she couldn’t seem to be able to lift her own arm. She was able to move her right arm, and when she touched the back of her head, she felt a warm liquid trickle down the back of her neck. Her blood.

“ _Ship’s int – integrity failing. Breach in front hull.”_

Amanda whimpered as she attempted to raise her head up. A sharp flair of heat from her chest knocked the breath out of her. She froze for a minute, before stealing herself and opening her eyes.

‘Breach’ was the understatement of the day. Where the front window at the front helm once was, all she could see was black. Shards of glass littered the ground right in front of her. The console that was once there was completely flattened, along with the whole front helm of the ship. It took her a second to realize that the black wall was _stone_. The front of the cruiser had completely crashed right into the side of the L-langon Mountain Range.

She breathed in sharply before turning her head left towards the pilot seat.

Fear shot through her body like ice. “ _Sarek,_ ” she cried out, ignoring the pain in her chest.

Sarek was still strapped into the pilot seat, the restraints holding him up in a sitting position. As far as Amanda could tell, she had injury from on the back of her head from the whiplash of impact against her seat and on her chest from the restraints. But Sarek seemed to have somehow bore most of the injuries from the impact. Amanda vaguely remembered that he was facing her during the impact – leaving his left side closest to the front of the ship. So, from what she could see, he had shards of glass embedded into his side. He had a cut on his cheekbone. And most concerningly, a giant shard of shrapnel the length of her forearm sticking out of his chest.

Tears sprung in her eyes from both pain and fear. But before she started flat out sobbing, she forced herself to breathe in and out.

Amanda forced herself to look at Sarek, and she almost started crying again when she saw his chest rise.

With great effort, she yanked on the seat’s clasp. “Oh, fuck,” she moaned as the pressure released off of her chest. Instead of feeling relief, she felt harsh throbbing on her the left side of her chest. Amanda couldn’t be sure, but she was pretty sure she broke something, and it made it incredibly painful to use her left arm.

She felt like an old woman when she forced herself to stand. Immediately, the world seemed to spin, and she could feel warmth flowing down the back of her neck onto her spine. Amanda staggered and caught herself on the middle console that separated the two. She rubbed her temple and vaguely realized she just wiped blood onto her face.

But Sarek was a lot worse off than she was. Amanda just had to move around the console, and then she could reach him.

Amanda took a step to her left but was immediately and forcibly pushed backwards. Blue light rippled in front of her, revealing deflector shields that extended all around her seat.

“ _Shit,_ ” she gasped. “Sarek, you idiot,”

She probably shouldn’t curse at the man who probably saved her life – it was too early to tell. Amanda vaguely remembered seeing a flash of blue right before they crashed. She didn’t know then that he was erecting shields around her, and that explained why no glass or shrapnel hit her during impact. Unlike Sarek.

He protected her by raising the shields. But he also trapped her in a cage.

“You idiot,” she repeated at his unconscious form.

Amanda looked down at the console separating the two of them. The shield was erected from directly the middle of the console, so she had access to its functions. And the ship was running on emergency power, so she could theoretically turn it off. But the damn thing was in Vulcan.

If the two of them ever got out of here, Amanda vowed she will learn it.

“ _Ship syst – system is critical. Emergency power at 8%.”_

Now, she’s the idiot.

Amanda had no idea what to call the AI system, but she called out, “Computer. Drop inner compartment shields.”

“ _Shields inact – inactivated. Emergency power at 5%.”_

To Amanda’s relief, the shields dropped, and she stumbled to Sarek.

“Sarek?”

He did not respond.

From what she can see, the shrapnel hit right beneath his collarbone on his left breast. Amanda barely knew anything about Vulcan physiology, but she remembered from the Learning Center training that Vulcan’s hearts are located where the human liver was. If he were human, he would’ve died immediately from this wound.

Amanda still did not know that Vulcan blood was _green_. It was a vibrant emerald shade, and it soaked his clothing and dripped steadily onto the floor.

The only thing that was keeping her going was that he was breathing. The rise in his chest was faint, but there.

Amanda spotted the universal symbol for medicine – a star overlaid with a cross – on one of the compartments in the hall. She saw black spots in her vision as she staggered over, so she forced herself to breathe. It took her longer than she liked to get it, but it was better than passing out for both of them to die.

She dropped the medkit on top of the middle console and opened it. She dug through its contents with her good arm.

As an educator on Earth, Amanda was required to attend yearly medical training in case of any class emergencies. If she ever saw the trainers again, she’d thank them even though she had always cursed them for being god-awfully dull.

Scissors. A flashlight. A medical tricorder. A single hypospray.

This ship likely cost more than her livelihood, and _this_ is all it has to offer?

The hypospray was preloaded with four drugs – cordrazine, masiform D, tri-ox compound, and melenex. The former two are stimulants. She could use them to wake Sarek up, but she only knew the proper dose for humans, and it could cause more harm than good when used improperly. The tri-ox compound will be useful soon, as Amanda will need another dose to accommodate Vulcan’s oxygen-poor atmosphere. She also had more doses in her bag – wherever that is. And while Amanda would just love to hit herself with the anesthetic melenix, heaven knows Sarek is going to need it way more than her.

Amanda let out a faintly hysterical laugh of relief when she found a vascular regenerator. That will certainly help Sarek’s blood loss.

She looked back at his limp form and sighed.

Now, to get him off of that chair.

There was no way she’d be able to move him without her left arm. So Amanda ended up adjusting the hypospray dose reading to 2ccs. The dose to bring a human under is 10 ccs of melenix, and it would be quite embarrassing if she accidentally knocked herself out.

She felt a sharp sting beneath her collarbone when she injected the melenix, but almost immediately felt a numbing sensation. She could breathe slightly better, she thought. It was a remarkable difference, but she still felt like shit.

Amanda carefully unclasped Sarek’s safety restraints. She turned the chair so that it faced the middle console, and then moved to stand behind him.

A small part of her felt relieved that Sarek was unconscious. If he was awake for this part, it would’ve been incredibly awkward. And she doubted she would be able to work will underneath his calculating gaze.

Amanda gently turned him within the chair so that he no longer leaned onto the back of the seat, but now onto her front. She stuck her arms beneath his armpits and carefully wrapped her arms around him in order to clasp her hands together at the front of his chest. His head lulled onto her right shoulder, and she refused to look down at him.

Instead, Amanda went down to her knees and gently began to pull him off the seat. Sarek was unexpectedly _very_ heavy. Sure, he was almost a foot taller than her, but he had a lean and slant figure. He was, in fact, ridiculously heavy.

Her arms shook as she held his weight to prevent him from just falling off the chair. She stifled a cry of pain as he essentially ended in her lap.

Eventually, he was on the floor – mostly. He was lying propped up between her legs, his back against her front. Her arms were still wrapped around him, and his head on her shoulder.

Amanda took a moment to catch her breath before beginning to scoot back. She gently supported his neck and placed him down so that he was lying on his back.

The shrapnel was triangular and stuck out of him like a flag. It was roughly a foot long and looked like it came from part of the console. It didn’t pierce completely through his body, which she believed was a good thing.

If Amanda took it out, he will bleed out. Fast. Right now, the shrapnel was actually stanching the blood loss. But if she left it in, he might go into shock and die.

Amanda remembered before the crash that the computer systems said that the message Sarek was trying to send to Raal’s Airbase ‘failed’ to send. She doubted it would work now, and she was reluctant to waste power. But she had to know for sure.

“Computer, can you alert anyone nearby of our crash?”

“ _Neg- negative. Transmission is damaged.”_

“Is the Raal Airbase expecting our arrival?”

“ _Affirmative. They have received our departure data and expect arrival in 2 hours and 37 minutes.”_

They probably wouldn’t send out a search team until at least an hour after.

“Can we send out any signal? To allow them to find us easier?”

“ _Neg- negative. Ship’s transmissions and radio systems are damaged. Emergency power at 4%.”_

So, it would roughly take around three and a half hours for Raal to send out a search team. And then they would have to search the entire expanse of the L’langon Mountain Range, which Sarek has simply and accurately described as _vast_.

Amanda bit her lip. Furthermore, she didn’t like the idea of a complete blackout.

“Computer, keep voice response and artificial gravity, but turn off power for everything else, including internal climate regulator.”

It was cool for now, but it wouldn’t be long until the hot air seeps into this metal death trap. But she’ll worry about that later.

Amanda brought down the medkit and its components. First, she pulled out the scissors and began to cut away Sarek’s lovely, lovely robe.

It felt weirdly taboo to cut away at this garment. She’s only ever seen him in robes, so it felt like she was cutting off his armor. Indeed, it seemed as though much of the smaller shards of glass simply bounced off of the tough fabric. But, alas, it was necessary. And she felt strong relief at seeing he wore a loose white shirt underneath. She carefully cut out the cloth around the shrapnel and tossed away the remainder of the robe.

Amanda decided to leave his tunic on. It was loose enough that she only needed to make a single short cut to gently tug it away from his wound. Besides, there were smaller shards of glass that had pierced through the thinner fabric and detangling the glass from the thread would be too time-consuming to do now.

She could take out the shrapnel and immediately use the vascular regenerator right after. It would be able to repair most of the blood vessels, but it would not be able to replace the blood he had already lost.

But already, Amanda could see his green blood slowly trickling out of his wound. She didn’t think he would manage to survive like this by the time the others find them – _if_ they ever find them. 

Amanda took a deep breath as she pulled out the vascular regenerator and weighed it in her hands.

She’s been to the lectures and seen the videos, but she’s never actually used one herself. It was a small cylinder that fit nicely in the palm of her hand. She knew lasers emitted from one end, and the button on the other end was pretty self-explanatory.

But the thought of pulling out the shrapnel terrified her. Amanda could do more damage to him if she messed up. The melenix was already starting to wear off, and she could faintly feel the throbbing on her collarbone. She was tired, and her head was pounding.

She looked at Sarek’s calm face. He looked different. His face was softer, less sharp. His strict mouth and sharp eyebrows were relaxed. He looked sound asleep.

Oh my god, Amanda thought. She’s going to kill him.

Amanda’s eyes watered, but she grabbed the regenerator. Her eyes found the thin cut on his face, and she decided to do a test run.

She leaned over him and hovered the regenerator over the cut on his cheekbone. She breathed deeply, but it came out more ragged than it should have. To steady herself and to turn his face to the side, Amanda rested the palm of her hand against his cheek.

Sarek’s eyes flew open and before she could even react, she felt something grab her wrist _hard_. She cried out in pain the same time he let out something primal that was between a groan and a growl. In one violent motion, he tried to sit up while also trying to yank her off of him. But the shrapnel was digging into his muscle, and overcome in pain, he doubled over.

Amanda recognized pure, wild fear in his eyes, so she started hysterically shouting, “Sarek! Sarek, it’s me. It’s just me!”

He froze for a split second. “Ama – _ah_ – ”

Sarek groaned out in pain, and his head fell back onto the ground. But he was definitely awake, and he was still crushing her wrist.

“Sarek, what the hell was that?” she cried out, trying to catch her breath. She almost passed out right then and there.

His voice was rougher than she’s ever heard, but he got out, “Your fear. It disoriented me.”

Amanda had no idea what he meant by that, but Sarek was awake, and they had more pressing issues to address.

“Sarek, you’re hurt,” she said, unnecessarily but it helped collect herself. “Badly. You have a foot of shrapnel embedded beneath your collarbone. And the ship isn’t able to communicate with anyone. It won’t be until another three hours before they realize something happened to us, and even then, they’d have to find our location somehow.”

Sarek was breathing heavily, and it was hard to watch with the shrapnel literally pinning him down. When he squeezed her arm, she yelped.

He did not seem to realize that he was gripping her wrist. But as soon as Sarek heard her cry out, he immediately let go. It was then his eyes finally met hers, and they looked clearer somehow.

“I apologize.” The calmness in his voice almost made her cry. “You are injured as well.”

Amanda belatedly remembered the blood on the side of her face. She wiped her eyes as she laughed, “Compared to you, I am in great shape.”

Her smile faded as she looked at him. “I don’t know what to do. You’re bleeding out already, but if I take out the shrapnel, you’ll bleed even more.”

Sarek was silent for a moment, and she had to look to make sure he didn’t pass out again. “I estimate that at my current state, I will have seventy-four minutes before reaching critical blood loss. It is unlikely the officials will not be able to locate us within my current time frame. I recommend you first even out your breathing. It would be unfortunate if you were to be rendered unconscious.”

“You’re one to talk.” But she breathed deeply, and it was only mildly shaky.

“There is a communicator in one of the cabinets. However, to obtain a sufficient signal, you will need to climb up the mountains an additional 52 yards. I recommend you leave and call help.”

“No.” Amanda shook her head and wiped her eyes. “If I leave you like this, you’re not going to make it.”

“My body is quite capable of maintaining its life force.”

“Your _head_ is not entirely capable if you think I can even make it up 52 yards. And it’s going to take me a lot longer than seventy-four minutes to even get there.”

Sarek raised an eyebrow, except now it was quite pitiful to watch. “There are greater odds of you surviving if you get yourself help. My probability remains the same regardless if the shrapnel is removed or not.”

“I am not leaving you.”

“You are being illogical – ”

“And you’re being impossible,” she sighed. “Only you could be so difficult when you’re half-to-death.”

“I am merely stating the truth.”

“ _I_ am merely rejecting your suggestion.”

Sarek let out a stifled groan, but he managed to shoot out, “It would not be the first time.”

Amanda leaned over. Her worry was palpable as she inspected the wound. “I really think we should take it out. You’re like a leaking faucet otherwise.”

“Your quaint analogy is appropriate. What supplies do we have?”

“A vascular regenerator and some anesthesia. I could pull out the shrapnel and immediately close open blood vessels.”

He was quiet for a moment, his breathing harsh and painfully audible. “10 ccs of melenix should be sufficient in rendering me unconscious throughout the procedure.”

“Okay.” Her hands began to tremble. She was just so _tired._ Her voice was tinny as she said, “I’m afraid of damaging you more by pulling it out.”

“A valid concern. But due to the angularity of the shrapnel, it should come out quite cleanly. You will need to maintain a steady path and maximal velocity to ensure greatest –”

“ _Sarek._ ”

He focused his attention back on her, and she realized that he was already struggling to maintain consciousness. “I have full faith in your capabilities.”

She shakily picked up the hypospray and brought it to 10 ccs. She gave a watery smile. “I thought Vulcans don’t lie.”

“I am not lying.”

Amanda leaned over him and placed the hypospray at his neck. Hair falling over one shoulder, she looked down at him. He looked _tranquil_.

Fear crept back into her lungs, and she started to shake. Oh my gosh, she thought hysterically. _I’m going to kill him_.

But then, his hand raised to hers. His thumb gently rested on her wrist’s pulse point while his fingers rested on the back of her hand. Sarek was still impossibly warm as he steadied her hold on the hypospray.

At his touch, a sudden wave of calm washed over her in a cool tide. But it was more than that – it was _him_. She recognized it like how one recognizes a voice.

Amanda blinked at him. “What was that?”

“Vulcans are touch telepathic.”

 _Hold on a second_. “Wait, what?”

“A conversation for another time, Amanda.”

She gave out a wet laugh. “I’ll definitely hold you to that. Are you ready?”

Sarek was unconscious ten seconds after injection, and with him, the blanket of calm he left behind. Already, she felt her fear trickling back in.

But Amanda stifled down her thoughts. She set up the vascular regenerator and placed it at a close distance. She took off her white scarf and wrapped it around her hands. She didn’t know how injured her wrist was, but it was already swelling and hard to bend.

Ignoring her fatigue and increasing dizziness, she got up onto her knees. Amanda held onto the shrapnel and _heaved_.

She let out a sob as she yanked as hard as she could. It did come out, as Sarek said it would. But a white-hot wave of pain radiated from her chest and her wrist. Tears sprung out. Her hand seared in pain again as she pressed down on his wound in an attempt to maintain pressure. His hot blood coated her hands green, but she immediately lunged for the regenerator with one hand and blindly placed it over the hole in Sarek’s chest.

Amanda couldn’t tell if it was working. She vaguely realized she had cut her hand from pulling out the shrapnel and saw flecks of her scarlet blood mix with the green of his. She desperately wanted to wipe her eyes but doing so would mean either letting go of the regenerator or reducing pressure. She couldn’t tell if the blackness in her vision was due to her injuries or her tears.

Finally, she cried out, “Computer, scan Sarek’s condition.”

“ _S'chn T'gai Sarek has lost 26% of total blood. 97% of vessels at trauma site are closed. Further medical care is recommended. Situation: temporarily stable.”_

The regenerator dropped with a clang on the cruiser’s floor. Amanda jerkily unraveled the scarf from her hands and slipped it underneath Sarek. She pulled both ends out from beneath him and began to tightly wrap it over his wound. Amanda yanked on it hard to provide sufficient pressure, and she struggled to keep her eyes open. She finally tied up the makeshift gauze.

The warm air was stifling, making it harder for her to concentrate. She felt herself slipping, and Amanda managed to clumsily inject herself with a dose of tri-ox compound.

The room began to flash black and white. She managed to look down at Sarek and see the rise and fall of his chest.

Within seconds, she crumpled on the ground beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots of ~chaotic energy~ going on. I had to look up a lot of physics and biology for this chapter lawl
> 
> Also, if anyone has seen Discovery, can you guess which episode I based this on?


	8. Mortality Salience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amanda's outfit: https://pin.it/G0eKOiC

_Mortality salience is the awareness by individuals that their death is inevitable and thus engages the conflict that they have to face both their instinct to avoid death completely, and their intellectual knowledge that avoiding death is ultimately futile._

* * *

Before he opened his eyes, Sarek did a quick examination of his internal body systems. He felt very little pain, only soreness and aches – but those were easily managed and ignored. The laceration on his chest was no longer open and his vascular systems were operating as normal. He felt no lethargy or chills typical of extreme blood loss.

Simultaneously, he took measure of the bustling activity around him. He heard the periodic beeping that was synced up to his heartbeat, along with heavy foot traffic and talking outside of his room.

“ – unexpected. The team is out scavenging through the wreckage and will report any findings.”

“Crashes such as this are infrequent. Data has confirmed that the Ambassador ran all proper testing before flight, and nothing was of concern. The human said she –”

Sarek opened his eyes.

His hospital room was sparse, and the clock on the far wall informed him it was 1332 Galactic Time. Eridani’s light streamed in from his window, which revealed the Voroth Sea’s vividly blue waters clashing against the bright orange of the sky. Raal’s General Hospital was located right on its shores and provided a striking view.

He was wearing simple white clothing customarily for patients – loose trousers and a button-up with a high collar. When he unclasped the top three buttons, he found fresh skin over what was once likely a gaping hole. Sarek experimentally pressed down on the area and felt the typical soreness that came with muscular regeneration. The new green-tinged skin was tougher and paler and will likely remain as a scar. He inspected the pale thin lines along his chest and arms, which he suspected came from the console’s glass.

Buttoning up his shirt, he saw there was a handheld medical computer interface beside his bed.

He promptly picked it up and began to access his files.

> _Stardate 2226.267.2107: Patient V-37027 found in meditative healing state. Condition stable. Evidence of melenix within system. Large laceration on upper torso found covered with fabric to maintain pressure._
> 
> _Diagnosis: Class III hemorrhaging. 16 lacerations across torso, arms, and face. Minor skull trauma. Significant contusions across chest._
> 
> _Treatment: Tissue regeneration (4 cycles), dermal regeneration (2 cycles), blood transfusion (type T negative), 12 ccs of Melenix_
> 
> _Status: Recovering_

Sarek attempted to access the rest of the hospital’s database, but it loudly denied his request.

Swiftly, he began to remove the wires attached to his body, ignoring the loud beeps of protests that emitted from the machine. There were slippers beside his bed, and he slid them on as he stood. He performed measured twists and stretches, satisfied at the little resistance he felt within his healing body.

His travel container he had brought with him was resting on the chair nearby. He moved to it just as the door opened.

“Ambassador Sarek.”

Two Vulcans entered his room wearing a matching set of dark blue robes. That and the badges on their chests signified that they represented the Confederacy of Vulcan government.

Sarek gave a nod out of respect. With as much dignity as he could muster, he straightened and clasped his hand behind his back. _“T'nar pak sorat y'rani.”_

_“T’nar jaral,”_ they greeted.

The one on the right, a female, continued to speak in Vulcan. “ _I am she called T’Pavir. Your recovery is satisfactory. This is news the Confederation will appreciate.”_

_“Indeed. My injuries have sufficiently healed, and discomfort is negligible.”_

The Vulcan on the left was a male who introduced himself as Seral. “ _In light of the unusual circumstance of your crash, will you permit us to query?”_

Sarek concisely and quickly recounted all details of the crash. His initial testing, the sudden engine failure, the lack of the system’s cooperation regarding transmissions and manual override. Waking up and finding Amanda agitated and injured. He refrained from speaking of what he considered to be an unnecessary excess of details – his initial loss of control under the influence of Amanda’s fear, his attempt to calm her down.

T’Pavir nodded. “ _Your statement matches with the human. There are many confounding variables to this story that would suggest a rare case of malicious intent. Currently, there is a team at the crash site. They will comb through what remains of the ship’s database to find any evidence of sabotage or malfunction.”_

_“Inform me the results as well.”_

The pair made their leave as the healer, an elder male, entered the room. He looked disapprovingly at Sarek, who still remained standing at the foot of the bed.

“Ambassador, I am your healer, Salva. I urge you to rest and regain more of your strength.”

“I believe that is unnecessary as I am in satisfactory condition.”

Salva pulled out a medical-grade tricorder. “I insist on doing a final check.”

Sarek nodded and sat back down on the bed. As Salva inspected his internal organs, Sarek spoke. “May I present a query?”

“Granted.”

“Are you aware of the status of Dr. Amanda Grayson?”

Salva raised an eyebrow. “The human female on your ship?”

“Yes.”

“She was taken to the other-species wing of the hospital. Last I was made aware, she had requested to see you but was denied. I am uncertain of her current location.”

“Would you permit me to check her file?”

The elder Vulcan did not speak for a moment as he began scanning Sarek’s head. “It is not custom for he who is not family nor mate to have access to a female’s file.”

“As ambassador, I had approved her research on Vulcan and have been overseeing her actions. I had offered her transportation that had then endangered her life. I consider her condition to be under my responsibility.”

The healer placed his tricorder back into his pocket. “Permission, Ambassador, to speak freely?”

“Granted.”

Salva considered him. “There has been much activity in these halls since your arrival, from both the Federation and Confederacy. I have heard their _speculations_ and have become aware that there is much question regarding the nature of your relationship with this human. I have heard many perceive her presence on your ship to be inappropriate. I do not believe it wise to give them more cause to believe it so.”

How inconvenient. “I am grateful for this information, but there is nothing to speculate. I am the Ambassador to Earth, which, as one can assume, would make interacting with humans a necessity. It would not bode well for Vulcan if Earth is not made aware that one of their own is injured.”

Salva nodded, taking Sarek at his word. “Of course.”

The healer took the medical interface device and soon handed it over to Sarek after inputting an access code. “You are in acceptable health, Ambassador. I will update the system for your discharge.”

Sarek waited until the healer left to check the device.

> _Stardate 2226.267.2107: Patient T-37028 found unconscious with scalp laceration. Initial condition stable but deteriorating. Evidence of tri-ox compound and Melenix within system. Temperature: 38.6 degrees Celsius, significantly above average for Terrans._
> 
> _Diagnosis: Class I hemorrhaging. Significant head trauma and laceration. Fractured clavicle. Fractured distal radius. Hyperthermia. Significant contusions across chest._
> 
> _Treatment: Blood transfusion (blood type AB negative), 4 ccs of cortical analeptic, 5 ccs of trianoline, osteogenic stimulator (30 minutes)_
> 
> _Status: Discharged at 0632_

It was midday by the time he arrived to his quarters located at the heart of Raal’s Vulcana Regar. The capital was comparatively more disorganized than Shi’Kahr. Its mismatched buildings sprawled over the flat land. Modern architecture was mixed among the ancient, and the people were similarly as diverse. While most Vulcans have decided to use their logic to expand knowledge and focus on education, there were those who found their calling with the Vulcan religion. Vulcana Regar was known to be a hot spot of worshippers, and thus had a vibrant culture of song, arts, and movement.

His balcony oversaw the main plaza of Raal’s City Hall, where he was to meet with its Council tomorrow. His residence was only two blocks away from the shores of the Voroth Sea, and he could already smell the salt in the air.

Sarek cleansed himself and changed into proper clothing – a dark tunic and trousers. He still had very faint, pale green bruising all over his chest and up to his neck from the cruiser’s restraints. It did not hurt anymore due to his rapid healing state he had instinctively placed himself in, and even now his Vulcan physiology was functioning to heal what remained. The markings were still somewhat visible, so he put on the only other coat he had brought. His coat ended above his knees and had a high collar line. However, the coat did not button up, revealing some of the bruising on the front of his neck. It would have to suffice.

The hospital staff had cleansed his garments they had found him in and placed them in his travel container. Regrettably, he could not seem to find the robe he was wearing on the cruiser.

He did find, however, a white sash that was not his. It was lightweight and soft, but it had a large tear that almost completely separated it into two pieces. Sarek could recall Amanda wearing it on the cruiser, and also at the passenger shuttle and nature reserve. Its damage is regrettable.

Sarek carefully folded it and left it on the table as he ate a small meal and made calls. He updated the High Command and the Federation, as well as Shi’Khar’s Learning Center of the events. He answered their questions and relayed a short summary. Afterwards, he followed up with the wreckage team. Due to the nature of the crash, most of the console and database was lost, leaving behind very little information regarding the cruiser’s settings during the time of engine failure. There was still more analysis to be done, but as of now, there was insufficient evidence.

By the time he had finished his meetings, the time was 1632 GT.

He sat still at the table for 4.3 seconds before promptly getting up and exiting his quarters.

It was most convenient that Amanda’s residence was only a block away – really just across the plaza. According to her hospital files, she had written that she would be staying at the Federation’s headquarters, where Federation employees such as herself were able to find a place to stay when they were on business.

He got off the lift and found her room quickly enough. Number 532. He would have preferred to message her in advance, but his PADD was not retrieved from the wreckage.

Sarek waited patiently after knocking, and he could faintly hear the sound of light footsteps – or more rather shuffling.

The door flew open and for a moment, the two seemed just as taken aback to see each other. In Sarek’s case, he had momentarily failed to recognize Amanda. Her hair was usually in neat, combed waves, but now her brown curls had twice as much volume. She wore large, thin framed glasses, a large sweater, and sweatpants. The hair gave the initial effect of making her taller, while the clothes made her look smaller.

“ _What are you doing here?”_ she blurted, rather forcibly.

He paused. “I apologize. It is understandable that you would be upset at me after recent events. I did not mean to cause any offense –”

Amanda briefly stared before shaking her head as she interrupted, “What? No, I’m not mad at you. It’s just – _what are you doing here_?”

Before he could respond, she rather aggressively gestured for him to come in.

As Amanda closed the door behind him, she proceeded to speak to him accusingly, “You just got stabbed in the chest. You should be at the hospital!”

“As you can see, I am functioning quite well. The healer discharged me a few hours ago.”

Sarek waited as she examined him, her eyes lingering at the bruising on his neck and chest. Amanda frowned but gave a small sigh. Patting and brushing her hair down, she led him down the hall to the main room. It was open to the kitchen and dining area. Quaint and modest, it only served as temporary living conditions.

They sat down at the table, and she gestured towards his exposed neck. “How did you heal so quickly? My injuries aren’t as bad, but I’m still sore.”

“Vulcans are able to enter a meditative healing state when injured. I believe after you operated on me, my body was able to direct its energy into restoring my health. Furthermore, Vulcans generally heal faster than humans.”

Amanda gave a weak smile and rubbed her temple. “‘Operated’ is another word for it, I suppose.”

“That is actually why I came here. I would first like to apologize. I had placed you in an incredibly dangerous and regrettable situation, and it troubles me that you were harmed, and that this could have led to your premature death. For that, I am regretful.”

Her cheeks reddened, yet she spoke sincerely. “I don’t blame you for what happened. You were generous enough to offer me a ride, and this was a complete freak accident. I know you ran the testing and diagnostics – I was there. And even those government officials told me that they could not explain what had happened. It was entirely out of your control, and it would be _illogical_ to think otherwise.”

“Perhaps, but I still find myself regretful. I would also like to extend my fullest gratitude to you. Your actions were commendable, and you saved my life.”

Amanda waved her hand in an agitated manner. “There is really no need for that. I wasn’t going to just let you die, and if it was my case, I know you would’ve done the same. Besides, I was incredibly jacked up with Melenix.”

He raised an eyebrow, and she laughed lightly. “Okay, sorry. Not funny.” Amanda stood up and asked, “Do you want tea or anything?”

“Tea would be satisfactory.”

He watched as she slowly walked into the kitchen. Frowning, she stood for a moment and then sighed. “Okay, I’ll be honest. As soon as I got here this morning, I went straight to the bedroom and slept right up until you knocked on the door. I have no clue what is in this kitchen, and I don’t think there is a replicator.”

Sarek stood as well. “You have not consumed anything today?”

“The healers practically force fed me this fruit when I first woke up this morning– at least, I think it was a fruit – but that’s about it.”

“There is an outside food stall market not far from here. Vulcana Regar is known for its street food. If you are feeling well, we can find sustenance there.”

Amanda smiled, and he found himself marveling– not for the first time – on how humans managed to smile with so little provocation.  
“That sounds nice.” She looked down. “But let me change first.”

* * *

By the time they reached the markets, the Eridani star was at the far horizon. The city would be dark in a matter of moments, but Vulcana Regar’s food markets were renowned to be bustling centers of noise and light. Lanterns were strung in a chaotic display – they lined the walkways and crisscrossed over the paths. Most shown as warm yellow light, but there were vibrant reds, blues, and purples that were sprinkled into the mix. The lanterns illuminated the whole market and made everything as visible as day. It revealed the lively crowd of Vulcans in long, colorful robes mixed along with races of other worlds.

The cobblestone path soon turned into red sand. The smell of the sea’s salt was very strong, and he could see glimpses of the shore in between the stalls. The market stood on the beach itself and stretched on for miles. Artisans lined up along the wide walkway, displaying various Vulcan art and clothing. A few other races had their own stalls as well to sell their own items. The atmosphere was loud – a mix of shouting, talking, and live music.

Sarek’s apprehension only grew. He narrowly avoided collision with a young Vulcan boy – who was weaving through the throng of the crowd _shirtless_ – and made quick work to find Amanda. Sarek had learned quickly that it was quite difficult to relocate Amanda in the sea of taller Vulcans.

Amanda laughed, glancing back at the young child who had long disappeared. “I _really_ like this place, Sarek.”

He was not yet sure if he shared her sentiments. “There is quite a lot of people.”

“Is it always like this?”

“No. I have heard it is much worse during tourist season.”

“What do tourists come here to do?”

“Vulcana Regar is seen as one of Vulcan’s culture centers.”

“How so?”

“The city has a large population of Vulcans who follow the old ways. They are more spiritual people and follow the same rituals and logic lifestyle as we do, but they place more emphasis on religion than education. As such, their intellectual output manifests in their art. Furthermore, while the Voroth Sea borders one side of Raal, the other side borders the Fire Plains. It is a popular destination.”

Her eyes widened at him. “Are we able to go?”

“Unfortunately, it is solar flare season. Tours will be closed until next year.”

Amanda ducked, avoiding a wayward basket that rested on a woman’s shoulder. “Ah, well, maybe the next time I find myself on Vulcan.”

They reached stalls that sold vibrant cloths of various texture and designs. Vulcan clothing was known to be long and flowy, and its thin fabrics billowed in the soft ocean breeze.

Amanda liked to touch the cloths as they passed, he observed. When she stopped to inspect a piece – a scarf – he offered to buy it for her.

She raised an eyebrow, and he sensed her discomfort. “You really don’t need to do that.”

“I have simply recalled that the hospital gave me the scarf you used to bandage my wounds. I meant to return it, but it is torn and damaged. Therefore, I do believe I owe you a replacement.”

Sarek waited as Amanda looked at the light fabric in her hands. It was an ivory shade with very thin stitching embroidered on the edges – something akin to lace. It flowed gently in the breeze, and a small smile crept onto her face.

Amanda sighed. “Alright.”

She tucked it carefully into her bag while Sarek paid.

Eventually, the strong scents of fire, spice, and incense permeated the air. The sounds of shouting and metal clanging deafened his ears. Smoke lingered above them and made the lights blur together.

Sarek led them through the thick crowd while Amanda tailed closely behind him. He did not mind the smells or sounds necessarily; it was the close presence of strangers all around him that ailed him. This level of activity was not common in most places on Vulcan, but he repressed any discomfort he held and led them to the side where the traffic flow was manageable.

“Are you alright?”

Sarek glanced down at Amanda. “Yes. If you see anything you would like, please inform me.”

Thankfully, the pathway soon widened, and they were able to walk side by side without much trouble.

“What is _that_?”

Sarek followed Amanda’s gaze and replied, “That is _farr-kahli_. It is a vegetable similar to that of asparagus. It is coated in spices and oils and then set aflame, as you see now.”

“Is it good?”

“I am impartial to it.”

They went back and forth as they passed various stalls with Sarek informing her on the foods and their preparation.

Eventually, Amanda patted his clothed arm excitedly. “Oh, I think I know what I want.”

She left his side, forcing him to maneuver his way over to her. He found her leaning against a counter to see a giant pan that was as wide as she was tall. The chef threw in a large bowl of melted Rhombolian butter, and a spark of fire shot up three feet. They both leaned back.

Sarek suspiciously looked at the pans contents to see giant scallops.

“These are considered to be one of Raal’s specialties,” he informed her.

“They served this at the gala, right?”

He nodded as the chef shouted over the roaring of the flames.

“He is inquiring how much you would like,” translated Sarek.

“Five is fine.”

“ _Kaukuh_ ,” called out Sarek.

He, once again, offered to pay out of gratitude, but she politely declined.

“You should get something for yourself,” pressed Amanda as they walked away.

He ultimately ordered _kleetanta_ – a rice dish with sautéed mushrooms and peppers, he had explained to Amanda.

The walkway opened up to reveal a large circular platform made of red stones raised above the sand. Lanterns were strung along its circumference, and a short wall of stone two feet tall also surrounded the platform. Seating pillows were placed along the edges, and a trio of musicians performed. He did not recognize the song precisely, but they commanded the instruments well.

It was his turn to follow Amanda as they climbed up the platform. She moved towards the back by the sea and carefully sat down on a cushion so as to not spill her scallops. Her long skirt billowed around her. Sarek followed suit and sat on her right side. He only sat on the floor for meditations, thus it was strange to be sitting on the ground in a relaxed manner.

They listened to the musicians as they ate. It was much more pleasant here than in the throngs of the market. He could still hear its bustle, but it was faint compared to the music and the ocean that was only a couple meters away. It elicited a sense of calm that he relished in its familiarity.

“What instruments are they playing?” She spoke quietly so as not to disturb their neighbors. She had tied her hair up in an effort to eat without obtrusion. A loose, chaotic strand momentarily caught his attention.

“I recognize only the one on the right. It is a _ka'athyra_ – it was used at the gala as well. Each one is carefully made by two kinds of Vulcan wood and a material similar to that of pearl. They are complex to make as it takes years for the materials to mature. Most Vulcan families have one that is passed down throughout generations.”

“You play as well?”

“I consider myself quite sufficient. I last won first place at Shi’Kahr’s Vulcan Music Competition.”

Amanda gasped, rather dramatically. She had a wide grin as she whispered, “You’re telling me, that _I_ am in the company of the _champion for Shi’Kahr’s Music Competition_?”

“No need to shout,” responded Sarek dryly. “I am a humble player.”

Amanda covered her mouth to stifle her laugh. A nearby Vulcan looked over.

When she collected herself, she chuckled, “You know this means that one day I will need to hear you play. Do you write songs?”

“As a child. Now, I have little time to do so, and it simply helps with meditation.

Amanda shifted and oriented her body to face him so that she could rest her tray on the raised edge of the platform behind her. She stayed like that and leaned against the low wall, her elbow resting on the stone as well. He stared as she looked out towards the sea only meters away. “Well, no better time than the present to start up again.”

A strange feeling unfurled in his chest – not a pleasant one. Sensing his stare, she looked back towards him and her eyebrows furrowed. “Are you alright?”

“You are still quite injured,” he said simply.

With her hair tied up and her body facing him, Sarek could now see the violent red and deep purple covering the whole side of her neck. She wore a loose cream sweater with a V neckline. It wasn’t low, but it was enough to clearly see the striking discoloration on her pale skin. He could see the bruises creeping below the neckline, and it likely expanded across her whole torso like his does. Except his were mostly healed, and hers still looked painfully fresh and new.

Amanda frowned as she gingerly reached up to press a hand against the side of her ruined neck. “It doesn’t feel as bad as it looks, I promise. They gave me pain medication, as well as a topical cream to help the healing.”

She took down her hair and fluffed it out to cover her neck. He could still see discoloration on her sternum. “But I probably should cover it up.”

“I have forgotten to express another source of regret.”

Amanda sighed exasperatingly. “Sarek, this wasn’t you – any of it. You don’t need to apologize.”

“In this case, it was my actions that harmed you. Your fractured distal radius.”

She followed his gaze to her wrist. Her sleeve had ridden up to reveal more contusions. They were as dark of a purple as the ones on her neck, except these had the distinct shape of his hand. He could see where his fingers wrapped around her wrist, where he had grabbed her so hard that he broke bone.

Amanda grimaced. “Well, as you have said before, Vulcans are naturally stronger than humans. You had just woken up and didn’t know what you were doing. It was not intentional, so I do not blame you. And in that moment, everything blurred together. I didn’t even realize it was broken until the healers told me.”

Sarek responded solemnly, “It was my failure in restraining my emotions that led me to lashing out. That is a grave and shameful mistake that I will not repeat again.”

“Sarek, don’t be so dramatic.”

A hint of indignation flared in his chest. “I misunderstand.”

She impatiently waved her hand. “This isn’t a personal failure, Sarek. Besides, you had said my fear had messed with you. Which leads me to my next question.”

Amanda leaned in and whispered, “‘ _Touch telepathy’?”_

While he was reluctant to continue without properly apologizing, her curiosity is valid. “Vulcans are touch telepaths– we are able to sense emotions, and occasionally, thoughts from those we are in physical contact with. It is why we prefer to not be in physical contact with others.”

“What do you mean ‘occasionally’?”

“The extent of telepathy varies for every person, as it depends on the strength of the relationship. For example, my duties on Earth have led to occasions when I am offered to shake hands. I do not prefer to do so, but human norms dictate it would rude to refuse. As I do not know the person, I only feel a brush of their emotions.”

He carefully straightened his coat. “The closer the relationship with the person, the stronger their emotions are to the reader. Eventually, for mates, mentally projecting would suffice to exchange thoughts. Otherwise, to read anyone’s thoughts, you use physical contact and neural nodes. The body has certain neural nodes that stimulate brain function, most notably on the face. Contact with these nodes can lead to mind-melding, where you are then able to enter a person’s mind and thoughts, regardless of the strength of the relationship.”

Amanda fell silent and was looking out into the ocean, deep in thought. The lanterns above them casted a faint, warm glow on her features. A breeze rustled the strands of her hair.

“Okay,” she said slowly, her eyes wide. “So on the cruiser when I touched your face – ”

“I believe that is why I had felt your emotions quite strongly – the face has many neural nodes, which is why Vulcans see touching one’s face without permission as a breach and violation. But you, of course, did not know this. Your fear became mine, and it startled my body into believing I was under attack. As such, I woke up in that ship with adrenaline in my system. It allowed something more _primal_ and instinctive to take over and defend myself.”

“Then it wasn’t your fault,” Amanda insisted. “It was literally me that caused this.”

“I have disciplined myself since childhood to control such emotion. It falls to me.”

“But what about when I felt your emotions? I had felt your – ” She waved her hand abstractly “ – calm. _You_ , I think.”

Sarek paused. He had not yet evaluated that incident and would had preferred to do so in a meditative setting. He remembered her agitation, and her hands were shaking at the prospect of having to remove the shrapnel. In his delirious mind state, Sarek had wanted to steady her hand. Perhaps he had projected that desire mentally as well?

However, Amanda is human and not touch telepathic. She should not have been able to feel him. He did not actually intend to transmit anything with a simple touch, and he has not heard of an instance when this has occurred to a non-Vulcan species. Mind-melding – yes, that has been known to happen. But an unconscious, unattended link?

“I am not entirely aware. I had simply wished to steady your apparent nerves and did not intend for a connection to occur.”

They fell into a contemplative silence. Only one of the musicians was playing a low, deep string melody, and the sound of the waves seemed even louder.

Neither of the two had their PADDs recovered from the ship, so he did not know the exact time. But from the change in position of the nearby Delta Veda in the sky, Sarek estimated that it was quite late. He was aware that they both had duties to attend to in the morning.

“Should we make our leave?”

Amanda nodded, and the two of them slipped their way off of the platform. They decided to opt out of entering the still-busy crowds on the walkway. Instead, they walked along the quiet strip of beach.

The damp red sand gave way beneath their footsteps. Amanda unexpectedly kicked her slides off and began walking barefoot. Sarek did not see the pleasure in walking through the low tides, but she seemed content to do so. He instead maintained three feet of distance to avoid stepping in the water.

Initially, they did not speak and instead listened to the soft lapping of the waves. He could barely hear the bustling of the markets from here. He found himself curious to know what Amanda was thinking, as she had the faraway look humans tended to carry, but he refrained himself from asking.

Eventually, it was her that asked, “Can I ask you something? It is kind of personal.”

“I will hear your query.”

Amanda studied him. “At any moment on the flight? Were you ever afraid that you were going to die?”

“Vulcans do not fear death. It is inevitable, and thus pointless and illogical to fear.”

“Well, that doesn’t really answer my question.”

Amused, he relented, “No. It does not.”

Sarek momentarily recalled the event. “The only time I considered there to be a high probability of death was the moments proceeding the crash when the engine had first failed, and the system would not allow me to regain control of the navigation to guide and position us to reduce impact.”

“I do not believe I felt fear of death. I efficiently directed my focus into finding the best possibilities of life, such as trying to send a transmission or turning on the front shields. Furthermore, death is complex for Vulcans. Our body ends – that is the way – but our consciousness can live on.”

“Like an afterlife?”

“It is not common knowledge to off-worlders, but every Vulcan has a _katra_. It is analogous to our soul and life, the essence of who we are. We are capable of moving it into another person – Vulcan or non-Vulcan – or into special katra stones. It is important for a Vulcan nearing death to pass on their katra to continue being.”

Amanda’s eyes widened, and it was then that he considered perhaps he should not have revealed such an intimate facet of Vulcan culture. But he did not feel inclined to withhold information, especially as she was once adamant that doing so was akin to lying.

“Like you really just _move_ it? A katra is that tangible?”

“Indeed.”

Amanda laughed in disbelief. “I am not even surprised. Did you think about your katra before the crash?”

“Yes. It would be unfortunate if my katra were not to survive. I, of course, considered passing it to you. But neither of our prospects were quite high at the time. Furthermore, there was simply not enough time. Thus, I concentrated only on increasing our chances of physical survival.”

Sarek was admittedly taken aback when she suddenly pushed his arm. It lacked true force and her strength was less, so it only succeeded in eliciting confusion in him as she gasped, “Oh, Sarek. You are an _idiot_.”

He marked this as the second time he was wrongly put down. “I misunderstand.”

Her tone was accusatory. “The shields – why didn’t you protect yourself on the cruiser? You got completely shredded from all of the debris. And not to mention, if the AI had gotten ruined, I wouldn’t had been able to leave _my_ shields to help you.”

“It was the only logical choice. The internal shields did not come to mind until three seconds before impact, and I had only time to erect shields for one quadrant of the ship. Human bones are less dense than Vulcan’s. Thus, you are much more at risk to lethal damage than I am. Furthermore, as we have seen, I heal faster than you. You were more in need of them than I.”

She shook her head in disbelief, a faint laugh coming out. “You and your damn logic – one day it’s going to get you a bigger hole than the one on your chest.”

Sarek raised his eyebrow. “I disagree. My logic is sound and has assisted in many situations. May I query on your state of mind preceding the crash?”

“I was completely, absolutely, amazingly shell-shocked terrified,” she deadpanned.

Suddenly, she burst into laughter.

It was unexpected. Perhaps even hysterical. Sarek glanced around and saw there were no other lifeforms. As her hands raised to wipe her eyes, he felt his discomfort and uncertainty heighten. Her laughter and tears paradoxically overwhelmed her, and his alarm only grew the longer it lasted.

“I’m sorry,” Amanda gasped, still laughing. A sudden, unfamiliar sound – a _snort_ pierced through her laughter. “It’s just, I haven’t really thought about it myself and – _my god_ , what a day.”

“Humans do seem to find a peculiar humor in death.”

“It’s more of a defense mechanism.” To his relief, her breathing levelled out as she began to fan her face. He noticed that whenever she went on about a certain topic in her academic interests, her words increased in pitch as well as pace. It was quite fascinating how she quickly her emotions fluctuated. “Death is always a huge part of society and culture, no matter how far away a civilization is or how advanced. It’s more of a social event than a process, really. It’s quite fascinating on what it reveals about the society. All of us, even Vulcans, have ways of dealing with the inevitability of death. For humans – with our interest in ghost stories, films, and portrayals of it, humor is definitely on the very long list.”

“As I have stated, we simply accept it – not delude ourselves in seeing death as anything else.”

“Well, you _deal_ with it,” she lightly corrected. “You use logic to forge a sense of calm and acceptance, as you say. The existence of a katra, and thus knowing that there is _something_ in the end, would also bring solace to anybody. Yet you fight death as well – we all do. It’s a strange paradox, yet universally experienced, to fight the undefeatable. If death was _truly_ accepted as completely inevitable, then even bothering to – let’s say, for example,” her smile widened “– raising shields to protect oneself is simply stalling and unnecessary.”

“Your words suggest that you are discrediting my reasons for producing shields around you.”

Amanda swatted his shoulder. “Not at all. I just get excited sometimes about these things.”

“About death?”

“All of it – what allows us to function as individuals and a group, our commonalities and perceptions, what drives our actions, and so on.”

“I cannot answer your questions, but I can offer a reason for my own actions.”

Amanda raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“It was my assessment that a ‘friend’ would, after all, consider another friend’s physical safety.”

She gave a slanted, blinding grin. “Sarek, you truly outperformed as a friend, which, although you might not agree, is even better than first place at Shi’Kahr’s Music Competition.”

On the contrary, he felt immensely satisfied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!! I'm so excited because after this chapter it really just sort of takes off mwahaha. You may or ~may not~ have noticed I changed the number of chapters to 18. When I first posted this story, I was debating on whether I would just post ONE story that went from boom how they met to their later lives, or separate it into two stories. I had already written most of the first phase (their origin story), and was in the process of writing their lives together, but now, I have decided that the second phase is quite long and would work better as an independent story/a Part 2 to this one. So WOO more content.
> 
> As always, comments, love, and suggestions give me LIFE so feel free to reach out!!


	9. Locus of Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amanda's outfit: https://pin.it/5GDNKRR
> 
> A busy chapter but every word counts!
> 
> TW: mentions of suicide

_Locus of control is the degree to which people believe that they, as opposed to external forces, have control over the outcome of events in their lives. Individuals with a strong internal locus of control believe events in their life derive primarily from their own actions, while people with a strong external locus of control tend to praise or blame external factors._

* * *

Sarek took a moment to observe the reunion of Amanda and the one known as Aisha Sarhal. He and Amanda had just separated from the landing pad of the Earth Embassy, and he had already entered the vehicle that he had borrowed from Raal’s government. Through the hull, he could see how the augmented human female startled Amanda by her excessive shouting and sudden contact. Their Vulcan guard, Boron, stood close on the side, his displeasure evident.

From what he could make out by Aisha’s loud yelling, she was upset that Amanda had ‘almost fucking died and didn’t bother to make a damn call afterwards.’ Sarek could only assume that Amanda would defend herself by pointing out that her PADD was misplaced in the crash. The two began to bicker accusingly at each other – at least, he believed so based on their agitated hand movements, but suddenly they were laughing and embracing.

It was afterwards that Amanda seemed to realize that the two were still on the landing platform, thus preventing him from departing. While Amanda ushered them aside and turned around to wave, but he had the distinct impression that Aisha Sarhal was glaring at him.

Sarek returned with a dip of the head and promptly took off.

He would have preferred to return back to his family home – Surak knows he should, but a session was convening in one hour. Amanda and Sarek had long decided to leave the day after their respected meetings so that he could be there in time. He had, however, hoped to bring back a delegate from Raal.

The situation of the current debates was quite tense. More delegates than expected supported Valkh’s motions for separation and ‘cleansing’ of the Federation. Not enough to reject the passing of the Articles of Association, but enough that it was causing a stir among Vulcans in the city. This may not be a concern now, but it will be in the future, when the extremists had more time to cultivate their numbers before the next round of reratification.

This was not the first time there have been whispers of discontent. It was the first time, however, that the voices are now speaking in the Hall of Ministries. There was an uncomfortable amount of activity within the corridors as delegates and officials maneuvered their way around for final preparations.

Eventually, a figure stepped forward and blocked him from passing any further.

“Ambassador Sarek,” greeted Valkh as he dipped his head in respect.

Sarek followed in kind. “Minister.”

“I have been made aware of your unfortunate accident when you were en route to Raal. I am satisfied to see you have made substantial recovery.”

“Yes. The event was unexpected, and a team is still currently browsing through the wreckage for any signs of tampering.”

“Tampering? Surely that is a premature judgement.”

Aware of one of the minister’s assistant standing to the side with a still curiosity, Sarek gestured towards an empty conference room, and Valkh followed. The door shut behind them, but neither made a move to sit.

“After these proceedings, the cases of attack and endangerment against humans have been increasing. These sentiments have caused some of the Vulcan people to behave irrationally and violently – both of which foregoes Surak’s teachings. This along with the unusual manner at which the ship had refused to respond to my actions suggests possible intention.”

“Some of the incidents regarding the Terrans have been regrettable,” agreed Valkh. Sarek watched him carefully as he continued, “I do not agree with the excess of violence on display. However, it only further demonstrates the incompatibility between our people and theirs.”

“It is your words that are creating a cavern between the two groups. There was little discontent previous to these proceedings.”

“I am simply bringing attention to the disparity. The failure of this partnership with the Federation – which is essentially a _Terran_ institution – is inevitable. In truth, it is already failing. But I suggest we save this discourse for the proceedings.”

“I am in agreement.”

Valkh paused. “And, of course, send my regards to Amanda Grayson. It is unfortunate that her life was at risk as well.”

Sarek had preferred not to yet bring the matter of her into this, but he smoothly responded, “I have been informed of your presence at her and her team’s workplace. I would have preferred that you simply had come to me instead.”

“I prefer to learn about a research from the creator herself.”

“I must admit, I fail to understand your concern about Dr. Grayson.”

Valkh raised an eyebrow. “I can state the same for you.”

The door suddenly opened, revealing Minister T’Pol. Her cool gaze studied the pair, as she said, “Ambassador, I must speak with you.”

“I will make my leave.” Valkh nodded to Sarek and T’Pol before briskly leaving the room.

As the door swung shut behind Valkh, T’Pol let out a rare sigh. The elder Vulcan was only just entering her later years and already had a decorated and commendable history in the Federation, most notably from her time on the _USS Enterprise_. It was only recently that she had accepted Minister T’Pau’s offer to join the High Command. As expected, she had inadvertently become one of the leading figures in the Pro-Federation argument.

Sarek, however, had been acquainted with her since his youth. T’Pol was not an uncommon figure in his household, as hers and his families have always had strong ties throughout generations. As a child, he often saw her with his parents, and she tutored him in his Standard studies. He had thought her as strange, with her more liberal expressions of emotions, as well as her recounts of her time amongst the odd and peculiar humans. Yet her sense of morality and integrity were unparalleled among Vulcans and humans alike, leading to her unsurprising offer for ministership.

“Sarek, it is agreeable to see you alive,” T’Pol noted, her eyebrow raised. “One would assume that your mother believed your status to be otherwise, based on her assertions that you have committed a grievance by refraining from taking it upon yourself in updating her.”

“Informing the High Command was clearly sufficient, as I can surmise you were the one to unnecessarily inform her of the incident in Raal.”

“Perhaps.” Her evident amusement faded into something more solemn. Among Vulcans, her emotional restraint was always considered lacking. “Your mother has made her decision to continue with _Ha’vik Sadalaya_.”

His hand imperceptibly twitched. A stationary pause would indicate an unacceptable sign of emotion, so he steadily turned away. As he approached the window, hands behind his back, he monotonously stated, “That is extreme, especially as I have determined myself that her physical condition is satisfactory. However, I had not considered whether her mind is intact.”

“Her logic is sound. For now. I admit I may not agree as well with her abrupt choice, but she is entirely capable of making such decisions for herself. The High Council has determined such.”

He gazed at the L’langon Mountain Range in the far horizon – a line of dark grey amongst the bright sky. “I will speak with her.”

“She will not be easily dissuaded. I believe her physical condition is worse than she has been letting on, it is my understanding she made this decision far before she first revealed it.”

“Which she did not do until I had returned to Vulcan. Her attempts to entice me to stay in Vulcan does not go unnoticed.”

“Her concern for the S’chn T’gai line is not unwarranted. It is an ancient line and having its heir offworld with no mate is what the Council considers to be a cause of concern for our culture.”

“It is precisely my duty to the Vulcan people that requires myself to venture beyond our realm. Furthermore, I have already done my part in securing a future for the S’chn T’gai line.”

He turned to see T’Pol’s prominent eyes staring at him. “Yes. A child that lacks the knowledge and awareness of what is required of him.”

“He is still young, and T’Rea is capable of teaching him the Vulcan ways – perhaps more so than I.” Sarek raised his hand. “We will let this topic rest. I will speak to my mother after the proceedings.”

T’Pille relented, and as they strode to the chamber, Sarek – with a skill that took him decades to gain – placed the uneasy weight in his mind aside.

The chamber at which the High Command conducted their business was able to fit up to two-hundred people. Only nine ministers sat at the front table, including T’Pau, T’Pol, and Valkh. Rows of seats filled with officials lined the middle walkway and were elevated so that every individual would be able to see. Sarek’s designated seat was always at the front corner – closest to Minister T’Pol.

“For the first order of our proceedings, Ambassador Sarek, how fares Raal’s Council? I fail to see any delegation from their government.”

Sarek smoothly responded, “The Raal government has informed me of their decision to stay out of these affairs. It is not their wish to have a say in these proceedings.”

“That is most irregular,” interjected Soron, one of the more traditional ministers. “They have a duty to their people and the Confederacy to participate.”

“The Council had made their views privy to me. They believe the high number of offworlders in their city is causing a strain on their maintenance of culture and lands. The province has a high tourist yield, which is stimulating for the economy. Yet they believe there is a high cost of offworld influence that is affecting their culture and religious lifestyle.”

“That is a valid concern,” noted Valkh. He sat farthest away from Sarek at the other end of the minister table. “Our people’s essence becomes more diluted as these foreigners come and establish their ways. Tourism may produce a source of industry for the city, but these alien gazes demean our culture and make quick assumptions about our people.”

“There is value in educating oneself about other cultures,” refuted T’Pol. “By opening our world to others, we are allowing our culture to be appreciated and valued. Is that not what we stand for? We can hardly uphold our quest for knowledge if we refuse to share what we have gained.”

“We have kept our world closed for a millennium, long before the Federation was created only sixty years ago. We were in a golden age of discovery. Relics of our past resurfaced and our understanding of our history had deepened. Now, we direct our gazes away from our world, rendering us unable to see how we are eroding away on our own planet as we do so.”

“There is valid concern on protecting the ways of our people,” agreed Sarek. “But the Raal government also recognizes the value of our offworld partnerships. Our technology and way of life has drastically improved. We are evolving, not diluting. Our sciences and research have taken more enormous bounds in these sixty years than the past six hundred. This is why the Raal government has decided not to take part in these proceedings. They did not come into a consensus on the matter of reratification within themselves and believed they would not be of use.”

Valkh rebutted, “The Federation has only _stolen_ our technology. It is indisputable that much of Starfleet runs on technology that we have either created or refined. The humans and other races have made remarkable inventions as well, but it is disproportionate to the amount we have contributed.”

T’Pol leaned forward, her pale hair standing out among a sea of black. “On the contrary, humans have made significant advancements with the Warp 5 engine on their own _after_ we had denied offering assistance. Information should not be a trade – the Confederacy stands on the principle that we are all entitled to knowledge.”

Valkh spread his arms. “They have only managed to get so far after we provided them with the capabilities to do so. Now, we give and continue to give them our knowledge freely. But they in return? They often purposely withhold information from the Vulcans regarding security matters in their illogical paranoia that we will take over, not to mention their pride.”

“To assume that the Federation withholds information from _all_ Vulcans is itself paranoia.” Valkh’s dark eyes imperceptibly narrowed at Sarek, who continued, “The Federation withholds confidential information from the general public – no matter the race. Your own bondmate is an admiral of Section 31. I, myself, do not know the true depth of their doings. Admiral Patar does, and as a Vulcan, we trust that she represents the wellbeing of all the planets. Point being is confidentiality is a legitimate method of ensuring safety, and Vulcans are indeed involved in the process.”

“I can easily recollect an instance during which the Vulcan government was not addressed in a matter that is at the katra of our people.”

“Clarify.”

“The education of our people – our children – is the crux that grounds our kind. Knowledge and intellect define us. We have been refining the model of our children’s education long before Surak’s teachings even came into hold. Yet an outsider – Dr. Amanda Grayson – has come to our planet to test a device that alters the neural activity of our own children.”

* * *

At the Learning Center in the far outskirts of Shi’Kahr, Amanda stood beside a seated Havin as they analyzed the recent raw data. She was bent over the desk, one hand supporting her weight as she pointed out an inconsistency and spoke with her friend.

“Hey, Amanda?”

Amanda glanced up at the doorway.

Aisha’s expression was unusually grim, as she simply said, “You should come see this.”

When Amanda walked into the unusually silent and full common room, precisely two dozen Vulcans and three humans switched their attentions from the broadcasting screen to her. It was then that she heard her name.

* * *

For the first time, the elder Minister T’Pau sternly spoke. “It is unwise to disregard an individual’s right to anonymity during these times, Minister Valkh.”

Valkh dipped his head. “Respectfully, Minister, the information of this research made available for the public includes the name of the lead investigator. However, much of the file is empty as it did not get approved or inspected by the Ministry of Science. Thus, the available information of the true purpose of the experiment is slim. And most concerningly, I had received anonymous messages from concerned citizens who had become aware of these activities.”

Sarek raised an eyebrow. “I, as Ambassador of Vulcan, gave Dr. Grayson permission to execute her research in Shi’Kahr’s Learning Center. Along with renowned scientist, Velik, I agreed her research has extraordinary applications that would benefit Vulcan. Furthermore, the faculty at the Learning Center were made aware of her research and contributed their own input. There is no hidden agenda.”

“Even now, you are vague about the nature of these experiments.”

“Dr. Grayson and her team has created a device that is meant to allow individuals with conditions such as _L’Tak Terai_ , a spatial and order dysphasia, to read easily as we do. Her team has already done testing on Earth to a variety of species with positive results. The device is able to measure an individual’s neural activity and apply sufficient voltage to increase capability. Furthermore, there are further plans to apply this to the recent Universal Translator. This would be a great contribution on behalf of Vulcan, and there is no sign of harm.”

“To translate our language into _Standard_ – which is another symbol of human disproportionality in the Federation – dilutes our language as well. _The Teachings of Surak_ into Standard is one thing – your father is Vulcan, after all, and can be deemed acceptable. But to be led by humans? They lack proper insight of our ways, and this Universal Translator would further butcher our language.”

Valkh raised a hand. “Furthermore, to intermingle themselves into the education of our children is unacceptable. But I concede in that Dr. Grayson is only one offworld researcher that has overstepped. There are plenty of other research that is being done here on the behest of our people. But her case is noticeable for a lack of transparency as well.”

Whenever T’Pau spoke, all movement ceased. “It is important to acknowledge that the Confederacy itself is not immune to a lack of transparency and contentious decisions. Just seventy-two years ago, I was falsely accused and framed by this High Command that I represent now. More despicable was the bombing of the first United Earth Embassy that was conducted under their design. From past experience, it was the seeds of the Federation that had allowed the truth to be reveal.”

“I agree with you, Minister T’Pau, that the actions of the old High Command were regretful and not representative of our values,” began Valkh. “But I stand by when I said we were in a period of peace and prosperity before relations strengthened between us and species such as the Terrans and Andorians. It was only after we established a connection that discontent, and violence festered. Even now, the Federation’s presence only invites challenge.”

“I was there during the birth of the Federation,” countered T’Pol. “I had turned away from the old High Command at the time to join Starfleet because I had recognized the potential of such an institution. I still see it now.”

“With due respect, Minister T’Pol,” said Valkh, his tone polite and dulcet. “The allegiance you had to the _Enterprise_ and the Federation seemed to be stemmed not from a judgement call but rather the personal relationship you had with a – ”

T’Pol’s voice was razor-sharp. Although she truly represented the values and ideals of Vulcan, T’Pol was known to often slip regarding her emotions. “You concern yourself with rumors and speculations that frankly play no part in these proceedings. You forget yourself, Minister.”

Valkh raised an eyebrow. “Is it wrong to present a case of possible bias? Even our own Ambassador of Vulcan seems to have a fixation on a _certain_ human.”

“As Ambassador to _Earth_ , Minister, one would expect duties to include interacting and understanding humans,” dryly responded Sarek. “Likewise, as a Minister of Vulcan, I would expect you to not rely on baseless slander to question the capabilities of your own colleagues.”

* * *

Very aware of the eyes on her, Amanda made considerable effort not to show the growing horror and mortification she felt in the pit of her stomach. Although she stood at the back corner of the room, Amanda could feel the patronizing gazes of her Vulcan colleagues. With one arm across her sternum, she pressed her fist to her lips to hide her frown.

Amanda may not be particularly savvy in politics, but even she knew that this was _bad_.

Her name is out there for all of the logic extremists in the world to focus on. Her perfectly legitimate and functioning device is going to be the target of scrutiny. _She_ had just been accused by a minister of “overstepping” and, if understood it correctly, was just used against Sarek to undermine his competence.

Granted, she thought the Ambassador handled Valkh’s thinly veiled accusation very well with what she can only refer to as his sarcasm.

“Dr. Grayson.”

Amanda and the whole room turned to Sonak, who had just entered. Amanda couldn’t tell if he was aware of the current events and found that she was, for once, comforted by a Vulcan’s impassivity.

“Yes?”

“D'vin Loctrill and Marianne Tran of the Federation Science Council are requesting your presence. They are currently on call in the conference room.”

Ah, fuck.

With great dignity, Amanda swiftly and gracefully walked out of the room.

* * *

“I am in agreement with the Ambassador, Minister Valkh,” cut across T’Pau. “These matters have no correlation with the Articles of Association.”

“Then I shall be direct. The Federation is a Terran institution. Their language, units, methodology are hidden by the word ‘standard’ in an ill attempt to be perceived as nonbiased for their own kind. 68% of Federation’s major facilities are located on Earth. 33% of high-ranking officials are of Earth-origin, though they are only one of sixty-eight member planets. Starfleet itself is 55% Terran. The gaping disparity of their influence is concerning.”

“This does not take into account Vulcan’s own decision to also focus on our own institutions,” pointed out T’Pol. “We _choose_ to divide our resources between the Federation and Vulcan groups, such as our Expeditionary Group. For humans, they direct all of their attention to the Federation, and it would be expected that they would have more of their own people joining. You also fail to clarify that Vulcans and Andorians also carry more influence than most member planets, as well as Earth's ideal central location and temperate climate conditions that makes it suitable for hosting most galactic lifeforms, and thus Federation institutions.”

Valkh persisted, his rough voice carrying far down the hall. “It will not be long until this dwindles. The Federation 'standardizes' for the sake of universal understanding. But when does this end? Even now, they have approved research that would utilize and systematize our own language.”

Sarek and T'Pol exchanged a look that one could only describe as exasperated.

* * *

Amanda had only met with the Federation Science Council precisely once when they first approved her grant. To be quite frank, her and the Council did not hit it off. They focused only on the Universal Translator – it will help thousands of missions and foster intergalactic relationships, they said. No need to focus on dyslexia.

They had wanted her to drop that aspect of the experiment and even gave a thinly veiled threat of rejecting her grant. She had fought back emphasizing the millions of people and all the races that this device could help. Amanda called their bluff – no way would they have let her device go, and now, she was on Vulcan leading her own team and research.

But currently, Amanda felt like a student who was about to get reprimanded by the principal. Still, she may not be a Vulcan, but she damn well will not let her anxiousness show.

Amanda entered the conference room and met the disapproving gazes of her holographic superiors. In their projections, they were standing, so Amanda stood in front of them as well. With her hands behind her back, she felt like she was channeling an inner Ambassador Sarek.

“As I have heard your people say,” began D'vin Loctrill, his blue Andorian antennas twitching agitatedly. “Shit has hit the fan.”

Marianne Tran glanced at her colleague with exasperation before turning to Amanda, who similarly did not know how to respond. “I trust you have seen the recent development regarding the Vulcan proceedings, Dr. Grayson?”

“Yes, I am aware.”

“Then that makes this easy on us,” sighed Tran. “I’m going to be blunt – you are to discontinue your project.”

Amanda’s voice was uncharacteristically sharp. “I have already been approved for this project and spent the funds. Thus, I do not need your permission anymore to continue. I intend to research during the three months I have left on Vulcan.”

Loctrill interjected, “This is not intended to be demotion. To be more concise, we are indeed urging you to discontinue your research on L’tak Terai students. Instead, you will reassign to Shanai’Kahr where you will work with their Xenolinguistics Institute and focus on your device’s application to the Universal Translator.”

“I was given complete reassurance that I would be able to conduct _my_ research. My team and I are already halfway, and our data would be incomplete. This would be a waste of time and effort to just walk away now.”

“Dr. Grayson,” Tran said sternly. “Do not make this decision lightly. I gave my support on your behalf to even allow L’Tak Terai to be included in your initial proposal. However, this current recommendation came from the Federation Cabinet themselves.”

“I have outlined the importance of my research and –”

“The relationship between Vulcan and the Federation is important,” cut across Loctrill. “The Federation cannot afford any more tensions between the Vulcan people. They are critical members and outweigh the implications of your device.”

“I have been directly reassured from the Ambassador that the possibility of the High Command voting to split from the Federation is low.”

The Andorian raised an eyebrow at the mention of Sarek. “That is true. But can we say the same in another twenty years for the next revote? Furthermore, the Federation Council does not like how you and the Ambassador are being tied into this.”

Amanda exasperatedly rubbed her temples. “It was _your_ idea in the first place to go straight to him for approval rather than dealing with the Vulcan Committee of Science. There is _nothing_ worth noting about the two of us.”

“Perhaps. But the Federation Cabinet - that's right, the Federation _Presidential_ Cabinet itself - also heard about you and the Ambassador’s inexplicable accident en route to Raal. The Vulcans are unwilling to suggest sabotage on the ship’s system without irreprovable evidence, but the Cabinet deems the crash as suspicious. They furthermore do not like how Ambassador Sarek’s reputation was questioned during the recent broadcast. He is considered to be one of the Federation’s strongest allies, and any blight on his career would negatively affect us as well.”

“You heard what he said in response – it is his job to interact with me, a human. Furthermore, my research is legitimate, and I do not believe that this one proceeding should compromise its future.”

“This is more than just a simple reference,” stressed Tran. “It will be inevitable that the Vulcan people will focus on you. They are logical, yes. But there are troubling signs of violence. Due to recent crimes enacted on the human people on Vulcan, this is also for the safety of your team. We managed to convince the Cabinet from completely denouncing your research – which they would have done to protect relations. The only reason why they are allowing you to continue is because of the Universal Translator phase of your proposal.”

Troubled, she looked out the window towards the orange and red landscape of Shi’Kahr. She didn’t like this. But not because she disagreed with them. The more she listened, the more she realized that this was inevitable. And worse – that moving was necessary.

Amanda could see how this might play out. Her research only had five minutes of glory in the proceedings, but the mere suggestion of it transgressing Vulcan society and of Sarek’s bias – although not valid – is enough to bring unnecessary attention. Most importantly, it brought her team, her friends, in the line of fire.

“Alright,” she finally consented, turning back around to face the pair. “We’ll move to Shanai’Kahr.”

“How much time would your team need to make the transition?”

“A week, perhaps.”

Tran nodded. “This is not what any of us wanted, but it is necessary. Our staff will send you more information and forms regarding the move.”

As soon as the holograms disappeared, Amanda sat down heavily at the head of the empty conference room.

* * *

Out of all their past game nights, tonight’s was definitely the most depressing.

The cards were still in the box on top of the coffee table. Finished plates and cups of various alcohols were scattered around the table and floor. They usually played music as well, but instead they sat in grim silence.

Joran was, unsurprisingly, the first to speak. “This is so shitty.” He gulped down a large amount of his staple mixture of cranberry juice and vodka.

“Very shitty,” agreed Havin. The remote for the screen tossed back and forth between his hands. “We are at the halfway mark and worked our asses off. And for the Federation to just call it off like that?”

Amanda sat on the floor in front of the couch on which Aisha was sprawled on. She looked at the others who either sat in the lounge chairs or on the floor around the coffee table. She grimaced. “I don’t like it either. The Federation has never cared about the reason this device began in the first place – they only care about the UT. But I agree that we’re getting _way_ too much attention right now. I’m not going to put our lives at risk just for this.”

Amanda felt something pat the top of her head – Aisha. Her friend comfortingly replied, “We know, and we are grateful. But it still sucks.”

“This doesn’t mean that our project is over, you know,” shrugged Titus. “I mean, they gave us six months, but we were never going to meet that deadline anyways. They’ll probably extend our stay if we asked – we can even haggle to go back to Earth or even some other planet if we wanted to! Away from all this batshit mess out here.”

“That’s true,” snorted Joran. He wiggled his eyebrows. “Maybe even the Orion planet. I heard great things about that place.”

Fasa whacked his head. “Those women would have you doing their bidding in two seconds, kid.”

Joran groaned. “Better than here – a good amount of the population doesn’t want us here, and none of the men or women here are gonna dance with me. There’s nothing for us!”

Amanda rolled her eyes and drank out of her glass. “Oh, come one. You were literally at that party getting wasted this past weekend. I’ve been back for seven hours and heard way more about that than I wanted to.”

“Yeah, with humans! The only way the Earth Embassy workers here don’t go crazy is by throwing secret basement parties. But I want to get fully immersed in the culture of the people here.”

Havin raised an eyebrow. “By getting into their pants, right?”

A ding from her PADD went off from across the room. Amanda’s been getting endless amounts of forms and updates from the Federation about the move. She knew the next few days were going to be full chaos. They will have to pack from both the Learning Center and the Embassy along with updating their work visas. They’ll have to pack up their apartments – just when they’ve gotten completely settled.

Amanda sighed and stood up, her glass in hand. A sudden smack on her ass caused her to bang her foot against the table, and she shot a dirty look to Aisha.

“Sorry, it was instinctive.”

She went to her PADD as the conversation steered back to Joran’s supposed lack of needs being meant.

Amanda’s eyebrows shot up when she read the message.

“Everything alright, boss?”

Amanda gave a thumbs up back at Fasa. “Yeah. I have to take this call though. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Alright. But you still look like shit, so don’t be working too much.”

Amanda wrinkled her nose.

She’s been taking calls all night, as well, so the rest didn’t think much about another one. Amanda felt bad about lying, but they would lose their minds if she told them. So instead, she smoothly put on her shoes and slipped out of her apartment.

Amanda took another sip of her drink and felt the warmth spread in her body as she waited in the lift.

The moons of the nearby Delta Vega shown brilliantly in the sky. Sarek, silhouetted by their light, turned around when she entered the rooftop. Amanda didn’t know how long he planned on staying, but she could see his borrowed cruiser was turned off. She felt a relief looking at him, as if the stress lessened on her shoulders. The door fell shut behind her. Unsure of what to do, she simply joined his side.

“A lot has happened since we last saw each other,” she lightly said.

Sarek raised an eyebrow. “Quite.”

Amanda gestured at a bench along the edge of the roof. “Would you like to sit?”

He nodded and they sat at the ends of the bench. He sat as stiff and impassive as ever, hands resting on his thighs. He seemed the same, but there was something _off_ about him. The way he carried himself was different. She turned towards him so that her left leg was bent and leaning on the back bench and her left elbow resting on her knee. She carefully placed her glass on top of roof’s edge and studied him.

It was then, that Sarek carefully asked, “I trust, then, that you have seen today’s proceedings?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “Was it as bad as I think it was?”

“It was not ideal,” he agreed. Amanda watched as he smoothed out his robes.

“I didn’t think my research would blow up in your face like this,” Amanda admitted, rubbing her temple with her propped hand. “I really am sorry about that.”

Sarek always had an intensity about him. Not just because he was Vulcan – she’s interacted with plenty of others since she’s been here. It was the way he stood, the low tone he spoke in, and the way his dark eyes just drilled into hers. His silence was especially heavy.

Whenever he looked at her like the way he did now, she felt as though he was analyzing her words, thoughts, emotions. He didn’t need touch telepathy to know how to get under someone’s skin, she thought.

“You misunderstand,” Sarek finally said. “The mention of your research has little effect on the matter of the Articles of Association. It is one of many examples that Valkh manages to conjure up, and it will be buried among them. The issue is that he put a name – _your_ name – on broadcast. Minister T’Pau was right to admonish him for revealing your name, but he had already made the irrational decision to do so.”

She frowned and asked, “Have you ever considered what if this all him? The deaths, the break-in, the crash – everything? This is just all too strange.”

“Although I am reluctant to make such assumptions, I was concerned about the depth of his dislike towards humans and the Federation.”

“And?”

“I spoke to him before the debate. I do not believe he is hostile.”

Amanda raised her eyebrows. “Really? How come?”

“Valkh speaks clearly with reason. He has stated he does not agree with the violent murders and the bombing of the first United Earth Embassy many years ago. My conclusion is that he does not believe in excess violence. However, his perception of logic may allow him to instead simply influence the people. Valkh stresses the actions of the people.”

Amanda thought about it. “You think he is just the preacher, but those who are listening are acting on their own.”

“Yes. He may not agree with their actions, but neither will he denounce what he considers to be the will of the people. It may be possible that by revealing your name, he is intending to indirectly rid of what he views as a threat to the Vulcan culture.”

Something shifted. It was as if the world stilled as he dropped his voice and gazed at her. “Thus, I have come to implore you to refrain from going to work for the next few weeks. Work from your apartment, if you must.”

Amanda’s jaw locked, but she forced herself to bite her lip and soften her tone. “The Federation has already beat you to it. They called during the proceedings.”

His gaze didn’t abate. “May I query on the nature of the conversation?”

Amanda sighed and turned so that her back rested against the bench. She rested her head back against the roof’s edge so that she looked up at the stars. Hands laced on her stomach, she said, “I agreed to move cease our operations in the Learning Center and relocate to Shanai’Kahr for the Universal Translator project.”

After a moment had passed, Amanda turned her head to see that Sarek was looking straight ahead of him. She could only tell that he was deep in thought.

Sensing her movement, Sarek finally met her gaze. “That is a logical decision.”

“It is,” Amanda agreed. She didn’t what she expected from him, but she felt strangely disappointed. She avoided looking at him in the eyes, and instead sat up to grab her drink. “It still sucks.”

Sarek’s words were disapproving. “You are consuming alcohol. It only succeeds in impairing decision-making and disrupting neural activity.”

“ _And_ it succeeds in making me feel warm and cope with how shitty today was.” She blithely shrugged. “My friends are probably twice as tipsy as I am right now. I won’t be surprised if they’re already playing a drinking game right now.”

“That is self-destructive.”

Laughing, she finally looked over at him. It lasted a tad longer than it should have, however.

He raised an eyebrow.

Amanda sighed but set her drink down. “Truly, I am fine. Humans will occasionally drink alcohol when upset.”

“You are upset with your own decision.”

“I am more disappointed. To cut off a project right in its peak – it’s disheartening.”

“Will you be allowed to continue it during another time?”

“Perhaps. Right now, I am just trying to figure out logistics of travel.”

“When will you depart?”

She rubbed her bottom lip in thought. “It depends on how long it takes us to pack everything. Likely within one or two weeks. And then when our time is up, we’ll have to come back to Shi’Kahr for intergalactic flights.”

“I have an offer, if you would like to accept.”

Surprised, Amanda studied him. He again was looking away from her and straight ahead. In the times she has interacted with him these past few weeks, she’s become very conscious of the fact that Sarek maintains eye contact as though the fate of the world depends on it. Amanda supposed that it was due to Vulcan’s tendency to be very direct and that it would be necessary since as ambassador, he would need to be an eloquent speaker. But now, he’s avoided looked at her twice.

And she realized that he was still, yes. But his shoulders were low, and his eyes weren’t as clear. They looked faraway.

“Sarek.”

“Yes?”

She waited until he finally looked at her. Maybe it was his eyes, his mouth. They were softer somehow. “Are you alright?”

Amanda saw his hand on his thigh flex into a fist. His eyes shifted, and he looked as put together as ever. She wondered if she just imagined his tiredness.

His tone was leveled.“You have previously expressed a curiosity on how Vulcans deal with and confront death. Does that still hold?”

Amanda blinked as she remembered their conversation in Raal. “Yes.”

“There is an old ritual on Vulcan – no longer common but not unheard of. _Ha’vik Sadalaya,_ which translates directly to ‘life release.’ It is done primarily by individuals who are failing in ability or health.”

She frowned, and a chill ran up her spine. “You mean suicide?”

“Yes. I am to attend such a ritual, and I am extending an invitation for you to join. It is to take place in six days.”

She had no idea how to respond. She didn’t know what this ritual entailed and the thought on witnessing someone’s death made her nauseous. It brings an even bigger question. “Who is it for?”

“S'chn T'gai T’Lara. My mother.”

He spoke so directly it was as though he just told her the time.

It was so unexpected that she struggled to even know what to say. He had never mentioned his mother. The only thing she actually knows about his family is that his father translated _The Teachings of Surak_ to Standard.

It did not help that he was looking at her so calmly and so _unaffected_. That unnerved her the most.

Unlike Sarek, she spoke hesitatingly. “I really don’t want to overstep. This is for your mother. She might not want a stranger with her.”

“There is no offense. Death is an open concept in Vulcan. _Ha’vik Sadalaya_ is a means of celebration and reflection, not a matter of shame or regret.”

She tugged on her sleeve anxiously. “Where will it be?”

“ _D’H’riset_ , my family’s estate on the outskirts of Shi’Kahr. T’Pille will be able to transport you there.”

Amanda didn’t fully understand why exactly he was inviting her, and she wasn’t sure how he would answer if she asked. Perhaps, he simply wanted her presence, or maybe he just wanted to teach her Vulcan customs. Either way, Amanda decided for herself that she would for support, whether he wanted it or not.

“Alright.”

She fell into her thoughts, and the hums of hovercrafts weaving through the city filled the air. The atmosphere was heavy, and she knew it was of her making.

Still, Amanda touched his arm. He looked at her hand resting on his robe, and met her eyes when she softly whispered, “I’m sorry.”

His dark eyes reflected the lights of the stars. Warmth bloomed in her chest, and she did not know if it was from the wine or him. His echoed words were gentle. “Death is not the end.”

Amanda could only nod as she withdrew.

Together, they sat and looked up at the stars for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, okay the next two chapters are my favs for sarek/Amanda so I'm so excited for you guys to read them!! Before I actually began writing this story, I would already come up with important scenes in my mind. So when I DID start writing, I often wrote out these specific scenes before I even wrote the chapters before it! 
> 
> If you guys don't know who T'Pol is (from the ENT series) and you do NOT plan on watching it, I recommend reading a bit about her because part of her background is pretty meaningful (or will be) for Sarek/Amanda :)) 
> 
> Hope everyone is well <3 As always, comments/suggestions are appreciated!


	10. The Ritual Theory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AMANDA'S DRESS: https://pin.it/287xJxF  
> It shamelessly reminds me of Princess Leia. When I first saw it I was like meh, but the more I stared at it, the more I was like <3
> 
> The D'H'riset: https://memory-alpha.fandom.com/wiki/Sarek%27s_residence

_The ritual theory asserts that focused interaction, which is referred to as ritual, is at the heart of all social dynamics. Rituals generate group emotions that are linked to symbols, forming the basis for beliefs, thinking, morality, and culture._

* * *

“Well?” Amanda spread her arms out in front of her.

T’Pille’s sharp eyebrows furrowed. “There is nothing in your hands.”

Amanda blinked. She gestured at her body. “I mean is this outfit appropriate?”

“I believe it is sufficient.”

She put a hand on her hip. “Sufficient as in ‘this human isn’t completely out of her depth in this very traditional ceremony that no outsiders had ever seen before’?”

T’Pille was silent for a moment, and Amanda saw her eye twitch. “I do not comprehend.”

Amanda tried not to sigh.

Although she won’t say it out loud, Amanda has come to consider T’Pille as her second Vulcan go-to. Unlike Boron, the other guard, T'Pille was certainly more amiable during their day-to-day interactions. Especially in this past week, when Amanda had been pestering T’Pille with questions about Vulcan etiquette and what to expect for her first _Ha’vik Sadalaya_ , a ceremony that was only done for those of failing health. Rather than endure prolonged suffering and uncertainty, some Vulcans would rather choose to permanently move their whole katras from their bodies into katra stones. Ha’vik Sadalaya was a time to say goodbye surrounded by family and close friends, as well as an opportunity to part from the world under one’s own rules and control. Control was everything to a Vulcan, and there are those who even apply that to death.

She considered asking Sarek about these things, but that would involve having to choke down her pride when asking something like dress code. T’Pille was the lesser of the two evils, but Amanda was certainly testing her Vulcan patience. Still, when she had asked T’Pille a few days earlier while they were packing up in the Earth Embassy, the Vulcan had simply told her to not wear “patterns, loud colors, or anything that showed too much skin.” Based on T’Pille’s descriptions, not as formal as a gala, but not as casual as work. Amanda also learned that Vulcans do not have customs regarding color. They don’t wear black to funerals or white in a wedding – that would be illogical and unnecessary, said T’Pille.

Amanda knew that whatever she wore, she was going to stand out regardless. Besides being obviously _human_ , Vulcans wore traditional garments of robes characterized by long fabrics and elaborate embroidery. She and Aisha had opted for the only dress either of them had to offer that both covered her still-healing bruises and fit T’Pille’s words: an ivory satin dress that ended at her calves with long sleeves and a high neck. It was slimming with a cinched waist, yet it was not too tight.

T’Pille had also said much of the ritual took place outside in the heat, so she carefully wrapped her ivory scarf from Raal around her head and around her neck, letting the remaining fabric hang down her back. She left her hair down as well, so that the crown and ends of her hair peaked out. T’Pille also wore a scarf that was much more tightly wound around her head along with a set of beautiful orange robes.

The drive to Sarek’s family estate, formally called the _D’H’riset_ , took longer than she expected. It resided on the western outskirts of Shi’Kahr, right along the edge of the Vulcan Forge. From the center of the city to the D’H’riset, it took half an hour even with T’Pille’s cruiser. As the density of homes and buildings decreased, the number of trees grew. With their scarlet leaves and white bark, Amanda had never seen such foliage during her time in Vulcan.

Amanda didn’t even know what the hell a ‘family estate’ was. Do all Vulcans have one? Did Sarek live there, or just his mother?

Amanda continued to pelt T’Pille with last minute questions. The palms of her hands straightened the smooth fabric on her lap. “Do you know who else is going to be there?”

“I am not aware. The beginning of the ritual is open to all and requires no invitation. It is a time to express respect and gratitude. Afterwards, those who were asked will stay for the meditations. Since we were both invited, we will be present for this. Then lastly, only direct family and close acquaintances will be there for the final act of Ha’vik Sadalaya.”

Amanda fell silent before asking, “Have there really been no outsiders who’ve witnessed Ha’vik Sadalaya?”

“Not that I am aware. This ceremony is not common, and the presence of offworlders is still relatively new.” They suddenly turned onto a road off to the side. It was partially hidden by the terrain of trees – dense enough to be considered a forest. “We are now arriving.”

It was then, as she looked up at the giant, multilevel piece of art that was someone’s _home_ , that she learned that Sarek came from what looked to be a very wealthy family.

She had expected something nice, definitely. Sarek seemed one to appreciate traditional, and she imagined his family’s estate to be similar to the older Vulcan architecture she saw in the city.

But _this_ was stunningly modern. The home was built to accentuate the beautiful terrain around it, with staggered levels and balconies. Panes of endless windows replaced the house’s walls, and technology mirrored the outside’s landscape for sake of privacy. There weren’t any ninety-degree angles found anywhere, as the walls and windows of the home often curved to mimic the outside land. Yet it retained the mathematical grace and elegance often found in Vulcan art. They entered through open stone gates, which she could see had beautiful etchings along the main archway.

Dozens of other cruisers filled in the roundabout. From here there were grand stairs that led up to the D’H’riset home, which appeared to reside on top of a hill. The home itself was surrounded by vibrant scarlet trees that shifted and changed colors beneath the Eridani’s light. Their red-tinted shadows danced along the stone floor. A tall and nearby mountain peaked above the foliage.

Amanda leaned forward in amazement. “T’Pille?”

“Yes.”

“Is Sarek’s family important?”

T’Pille raised her eyebrow. “It is surprising you are unaware. The _S'chn T'gai_ family has a long history and includes many influential Vulcans. One example being, Ambassador Sarek’s grandfather, Solkar. He was the first Vulcan to initiate contact with humans. They are quite prominent in Vulcan.”

Amanda felt like either laughing or smacking herself on the head. She was not surprised, but simultaneously – stupidly – incredibly so. As she looked at the amount of cruisers, she inwardly deflated at the prospect of making herself known in front of dozens of Vulcans, especially so soon after the proceedings. This was going to be, she knew, incredibly awkward.

“Will you tell me if I am doing something incredibly wrong or embarrassing?”

T’Pille raised an eyebrow at her.

Amanda could only sheepishly shrug.

“I will inform you if that should occur.”

They exited the cruiser, and Amanda – not for the first time – found herself immediately grateful for T’Pille’s presence. As Vulcans exited the home and walked towards their own vehicles, she could see almost every single one raise a goddamn eyebrow at her as they passed. While her scarf might grant her a brief respite from being detected immediately, her height and facial features were rather obvious.

But she was Dr. Amanda Grayson, and she had spoken in seminars and conferences. And those were in front of her peers and superiors – people who she actually gave a damn about their opinions. Like she did whenever she found herself debating or being antagonized in a workspace, Amanda smoothed her features to look unbothered and stood with her chin high and shoulders down. It always helped to look calm, even if she didn’t feel like it.

After climbing an insane number of stairs, the two finally entered the D’H’riset through an open set of delicately carved wooden doors.

The first thing she noticed was the drop-in temperature. It was still too warm to be comfortable for a human, but much better compared to outside in the Eridani’s heat.

The second thing she noticed was the wide space, and there was a lot of it. A curved stairway began right beside her and spiraled straight up through all the levels of the home, so that her and T’Pille stood right in the center of the spiral. Right above them at the very top of the house was a circular window that allowed the Eridani’s rays to shine through and bathe her and T’Pille in its light.

The third thing she noticed struck her while she was marveling at the beauty of the home – it suddenly became uncomfortably silent. Looking back down from the ceiling, she met the gaze of what she later counted to be approximately fifty-two Vulcans.

All fifty-two stood in a neat line that began at the far main room of the house and ended right where T’Pille and her stood by the door. The line was curved like a crescent to border against a central arching wall, and each Vulcan was shamelessley looking at her. Her cheeks weren’t burning, which was a big mercy in front of emotion-abhorring Vulcans. In fact, she hardly blinked when she met the curious gazes of the Vulcans. 

But then, she became aware that at the completely opposite end of the crescent stood Sarek. He and an elder woman seemed to be greeting their guests one-by-one.

As soon as Amanda met his gaze, she realized just how much of a bad idea this was.

Refusing to react in anyway, she kept her neutral face as she smoothly looked away from him and fixated on a painting beside her.

It was like a switch had gone off. Sarek broke first – she could hear his deep, levelled voice from across the floor as he continued his conversation with the pair at the front of the line, a woman and a young boy. Then, she felt everyone’s eyes snap away as they remembered where they were. Soft murmurings replaced the silence.

As the line shifted forward by exactly one step, she met T’Pille’s gaze. She gave Amanda an approving nod, which was the most of a ‘good job’ Amanda will probably ever get from her Vulcan friend.

Amanda bit her lip and looked at her clasped hands to hide her smile.

As the line continued to shift forward, Amanda allowed herself to discreetly look at the others attending. Unsurprisingly, there were a lot of top officials in the room. She recognized them from some of the proceedings’ broadcasts that she had watched – which made this, if possible, even more embarrassing. Ministers T’Pau and T’Pol. With a start, she realized Minister Valkh was only a few spots ahead of her. He caught her gaze and nodded at her.

She returned the gesture. Amanda supposed even Vulcans understood that politics and death should not occupy the same space. Although she may not like him, she conceded, neither does she fear him. 

Now that the initial nerves have abated, Amanda began to prep herself for the upcoming with Sarek’s _mother_.

Oh, god. She had already run her lines by T’Pille for approval – much to the Vulcan’s exasperation. Amanda had no inkling of what to say to someone who was about to die. She still didn’t really understand whether this was a celebration or a mourning.

Adding to the confusion was that the closer they got to the front, the more clearly Amanda could see S'chn T'gai T’Lara. Amanda had thought she would be old and nearing the end of her days. But visibly, T’Lara looked to be in good health. She had lines along her tan skin and streaks of grey in her inky black hair, but she stood tall and did not seem weighed down by age. T’Lara was elegant in every manner – her beauty, her posture, and her voice. Her gown was a beautiful shade of dark blue, and her necklace carried a blue stone that itself seemed to glow. She epitomized Vulcan grace.

Sarek, who stood beside his mother, wore a lightweight set of russet red robes. Hands clasped behind his back, he first nodded to T’Pille and greeted her in Vulcan.

T’Pille inclined her head while bending her knees – somewhat la mix between a curtsy and a bow – before replying in kind.

T’Lara and T’Pille spoke briefly but amiably. Amanda did not understand much, and only caught a few phrases she has picked up from her time here. She waited patiently until finally, Sarek turned and met her eyes.

Amanda stepped forward besides T’Pille, as Sarek nodded to Amanda, not looking away as he began, “And this –”

She forced herself to meet T’Lara’s. They share the same eyes, she thought. It was only just a tad disheartening when T’Lara had to look _down_ to meet Amanda’s.

“ – This is Dr. Amanda Grayson. She is a children’s educator and a researcher from Earth.”

She mimicked the movement of respect T’Pille had taught her. Amanda had approached this with the mindset of respecting Vulcan customs by refraining from an excessive display of emotions. But it was too against her nature to not offer a small, polite smile, as she greeted, “ _T’sai_ T’Lara, I am fortune to make your acquaintance.”

T’Lara was inscrutable, but she spoke not unkindly with a Vulcan lilt. “Dr. Grayson. It is fortunate that you were present with my son during his excursion to Raal. Otherwise, he would have an unpleasant hole in his chest.”

Her mouth twitched a tad bit higher. “He certainly did not make it easy. If he had it his way, I would’ve left him behind bleeding to death.”

Sarek raised an eyebrow. “I was merely being logical. The difference in probability of my recovery was negligible in either situation, while yours increased significantly if you had left to find a sufficient signal.”

Amanda maintained her pleasant expression and polite tone. “You were merely being impossible. We had the vascular regenerator, and it was more than sufficient as we now know.”

“I believe ‘improbable’ is –”

“My son,” gracefully interrupted T’Lara, “has always been stubborn. Even by Vulcan standards. I trust that he has extended his gratitude?”

A tad embarrassed, she looked back to his mother. “Yes, he has been kind.”

“I extend mine as well. I am pleased we had the opportunity to meet, Dr. Grayson.”

She did the strange curtsy to her. “T’sai T’Lara.”

And as custom dictated, Amanda took a step to the side and did the same to Sarek. “Ambassador.”

Breaking away from the intensity of his stare, she smoothly joined T’Pille and refused to look back.

The two joined the rest of the gathering by exiting another pair of doors at the back of the house. It led them to a large stone deck that hung over the edge of a cliff the house rested on. The scene took her breath away. On full display was the Vulcan Forge, a great desert valley full of caverns, great stones, and vegetation. At this height, she could see far beyond the Forge and vaguely make out the faint grey range of the L’langon Mountains.

On the patio were seating cushions meant for meditation. There were thirty-six of them, and they were placed in concentric circles.

Most of the attendants seemed to have left as soon as they met with T’Lara, leaving behind the invited guests for the meditations. It was past midday, but the heat left much to be desired. Amanda took off her coat and stood at the edge of the patio beneath the shade of a nearby tree. With T’Pille, the two overlooked the wide expanse of the valley.

“Can I ask how you know Sarek’s family?”

“I have previously worked for their family as one of T’sai T’Lara’s personal guards, which was how I met my bondmate. I now work mainly at the Earth Embassy, until Ambassador Sarek had requested I assist you and your team.”

Amanda remembered Sarek first bringing up his offer just as they were landing on Vulcan. The two had hardly known each other back then.

“Have you always lived in Shi’Kahr?”

“No. I come from Ara’Kahr. But after meeting my bonded, moving to Shi’Kahr was the logical decision.”

Amanda smiled. T’Pille would occasionally mention her bondmate, and Amanda enjoyed learning more about her. “Do you mind me asking if you have kids?”

“Yes. You are familiar with him. Tuval.”

“Tuval is your son?” She blinked. “I’ve been working with him this whole time, and you never brought it up?”

“The information is unnecessary.”

“Still,” she gave a quiet laugh. “Oh, gosh. I can’t believe I didn’t see it earlier – he has your nose and mouth. He is also incredibly talented, especially in maths.”

T’Pille nodded. “We both find it unfortunate that the project is to discontinue. Tuval has been much improved in his language skills.”

Amanda’s smile faded. “I know. I really wish we didn’t have to end it – we’ve been working on it so hard.”

“It is regretful that your team is leaving. I do not agree with the opposition towards you and your people.”

“Thank you,” Amanda replied sincerely. “That means a lot.”

At that point, a loud gong reverberated across the stone patio and out to the valley. It was startingly and unexpectedly loud, but it signaled the start of mediations.

Leaving her coat behind, Amanda followed T’Pille out into the Eridani’s light and was grateful that the Vulcan picked seats at the outermost circle, specifically beneath the shade of the neighboring trees. Amanda had taken a higher than normal dose of tri-ox compound and hoped that it would be sufficient for the next two hours of meditations.

Settling down on the pillow, Amanda copied T’Pille’s position – legs underneath with the back of her hands resting on the top of her thighs. Her weight rested on her knees and ankles, and her legs were partially parted. She straightened her back, relaxed her shoulders, and looked over the valley. Even though her dress was long enough to be tucked beneath her as well, it still felt a bit strange to spread her knees for this traditional meditation stance. She forced herself to get her head out of the gutter when she suddenly met Sarek’s gaze.

As the elder child, he unsurprisingly sat in the inner most circle. They were joined by T’Pau, making it a circle of three. Around them composed their other family and then close friends. In the very center, between Sarek, T’Lara, and T’Pau, was a small bowl that was filled with dry herbs that were then set on fire

The gong went off again, causing her to jump.

Sarek raised an eyebrow.

Amanda risked giving him a small exasperated look before focusing back on the sky above. She had no idea how she will survive these two hours. Worst case scenario would be if she passed out in the heat.

Minister T’Pau led most of the meditations. The elder woman spoke in Vulcan with a powerful, echoing voice that rolled across the lands. Sometimes, everyone spoke along with T’Pau. Other times, they chanted, sang, or sat in meditative silence. T’Pille had explained to her most of these lines were an expression of gratitude and to celebrate a chance in life. It was to allow the Ha’vik Sadalaya participant to reflect on their life in the company of those closest to them. The fire represented the relinquishing of energy and life. The meditations were supposed to go on until it burned out.

T’Lara also would speak, her rich tone managing to convey a sense of peace and appreciation that transcended language.

During the few times Sarek led, his tone was more somber. His deep and steady voice had a cadence that was almost musical. She liked hearing him speak Vulcan. She felt it carried a degree of emotion that did not translate into Standard. Amanda had opened her eyes briefly when she first heard him spoke, and she was momentarily able to just watch without fear of anyone else looking.

The heat, meanwhile, was beating her down. Her dress was thin and protected her skin from the harsh rays, but she was still perspiring. It made her tired, and it was getting harder to sit up straight. Her knees were getting sore from her weight. T’Pille had picked seats that were also closest to the house, and she figured if she needed to, she could quietly slip away.

But it was peaceful. The soft drumming in the background, the rhythm of the chants, the gentle breeze that would pick up more often than not, and the soft cracks that emitted from the fire. It brought chills up her heated skin. She felt for a moment that she was part of this collective whole as they thanked and honored T’Lara’s life.

Time passed until suddenly, the drumming stopped. Amanda opened her eyes and blinked rapidly to adjust. She saw T’Lara stand over the extinguished fire that still emitted a trail of dark smoke. The Vulcan carried a small bowl, which she suddenly dumped its contents into the fire. A flare of fire almost ten feet tall shot straight up into the sky. It lasts for three seconds, and then it finally flared out.

As people started to get up, she looked at T’Pille who nodded in confirmation that it was over.

Amanda rather gracelessly stood up from the pillow. As soon as she did, she stilled as she experienced a head rush from the sudden drop in blood pressure. For a moment, she thought she was going to pass out.

T’Pille hovered uncertainly.

She thankfully quickly recovered and gave her a subtle thumbs up.

A soft strumming met her ears, and Amanda saw that a lone Vulcan woman was playing an instrument similar to that of a harp. The others stood around or went back inside. She figured it was a moment of brief respite.

Amanda, meanwhile, immediately went inside and couldn’t hold back her sigh of relief as she felt the cooler air. She unwrapped her scarf to relieve her heated skin and let her hair flow loosely. Hanging the scarf over her arm, she got a glass of water from the refreshments table and leaned against the doorframe as she watched the performer. Amanda briefly met Sarek’s eyes, and her stomach did a flip.

This was a really bad idea. Because the more she was here, the more she had a growing and sobering realization. Really, she chastised herself, there was definitely a better time and place.

The contact lasted only a second as they both simultaneously looked away. Amanda studied the atmosphere as about over half of the people were making their leave. Her and T’Pille would be leaving soon as well. According to T’Pille, the final part of the Ha’vik Sadalaya involved only the participant’s immediate family and close acquaintances. From what she could gather, T’Lara had only one sibling and one son.

Her eyes skimmed the horizon, until they finally settled on a stone stairway that led from the side of the stone deck towards the direction of the neighboring mountain. Another path split from it and led directly up towards the second level of the house. As she peered over to see what was up there, she could make out a very, very large moving shadow.

Curious, she slipped and weaved through the Vulcans towards the stairs. It curved around the house, so she now faced the lone mountain instead of the Forge. It led up to a stone balcony, much like the one below, that was on the second level of the D’H’riset.

She could hear a child laughing and the shadow only seemed to be getting bigger. Mildly concerned, she stepped onto the balcony and froze in shock.

A child – a little boy of five years – was playing with a _bear_. The animal was three times bigger than Amanda with two curved fangs the length of her forearm.

Her first instinct was to run and grab the kid, but as soon as the animal set its large black eyes on her, she realized that it would likely not appreciate her charging in their direction. Instead, Amanda slowly walked forward, not looking away from the animal.

The child spoke to her in Vulcan, and Amanda managed to reply back in his tongue that she was not fluent.

With great struggle, the boy got out in broken Standard, “He is good.”

The beast huffed. Amanda decided he was more of a cross between a bear, a lion, and a wolf, which did not make her feel any better. But she realized that it was actually lying down and letting the sitting child pet it.

When she reached the boy, she gingerly crouched down beside him and the animal so that she balanced her weight on her heels. Even now she took great care to not let her knees and the satin dress rub against the ground.

Amanda had two rottweilers growing up. They were the sweetest things and would never hurt her, and she had an understanding on how to approach animals. Granted, this one did not seem very much like a pet at all.

She cautiously raised her hand near its snout. The animal sniffed her hand for a few seconds, and then promptly rested its head on its giant paws.

Amanda could practically feel her heart swelling.

“What is he?”

“He is called I-Chaya. He is _sehlat_.”

Amanda vaguely remembered Sarek saying he had one during his childhood.

“Can I pet him?”

The boy nodded.

She slowly raised her hand towards his snout. I-Chaya went nearly cross-eyed as he followed her movements. She smiled and rested her palm against his snout. His fur was coarse but softer than she expected. Like she did with her old dogs, she scratched his snout and behind his ears.

I-Chaya _chortled,_ and his giant tail began to whip back and forth, hitting the stone with a loud smack.

The boy laughed happily, and Amanda watched in amazement. She had yet to see a child so uninhibited in their emotions. The children she worked with in the Learning Center were at the ages during which they were already learning how to control and repress their emotions. Like their studies, they embraced the logic lifestyle completely.

But for this child, he was very young and at the period during which he was still exploring who he was. She was told that parents often let their child explore and learn how to handle the world around them first, before fully teaching them Surak’s ways. It allowed their personality to have a chance grow.

Amanda continued to stroke I-Chaya and watched as the boy stood so that he was now eye level with her. He clumsily walked and leaned on I-Chaya for support, and without preamble, he threw his leg over I-Chaya and sat at him as though he was a pony.

Aghast, Amanda shot up. The animal seemed sweet enough, but she was not going to let this Vulcan child get eaten on her watch.

The boy was kicking his legs against the sides of I-Chaya, who simply turned to look at the boy. The animal then met Amanda’s pleading gaze, and, to her relief, rested his large head on top of his paws.

“Hey, little man,” Amanda cooed, carefully walking over. “We should probably let I-Chaya rest some more, right? Can you come back down?”

The boy opened his arms, and Amanda took the hint. The child was heavier than she thought he would be due to his denser bones, but she managed to pick him up and set him on the ground.

But like all children, this child was curious and at the age where he pushed and explored boundaries. He suddenly slipped away from her hold and began whacking the sehlat’s tail.

A loud growl ripped from I-Chaya’s throat as the animal whipped his head around and snapped at the child in warning. Amanda could see I-Chaya hardly moved from his spot and did not intend to actually hurt the boy.

But to Amanda’s horror, the child burst into tears and ran behind the skirts of her dress. Looking a bit too satisfied, I-Chaya slumped back down and watched the two from its resting position.

“It’s alright,” she soothed, crouching down once more in front of the standing child, who was wiping his face. “I-Chaya’s just sensitive. He’s not going to hurt you.”

“I-Chaya is bad,” asserted the boy. His dark eyes looked vaguely familiar. “He let him be anger. Em –” He briefly struggled with the word. “Emotions must control.”

Amanda raised an eyebrow. “Well, he is not a Vulcan. He is like humans.”

“Humans,” he repeated. “Like you?”

“Yes. And for humans, when someone messes with us, we lash out.” She poked his belly for emphasis, and beautifully, the boy laughed.

A strong, female voice cut across his laugh. “Sybok.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first wrote this chapter, it was WAY too long, so I had to split it half. Naturally, that means all the fun stuff is in the next chapter lawl
> 
> I'm evilly laughing in the corner, I'm so excited!!
> 
> Hope everyone's well <3 comments, suggestions, updates are always welcomed!


	11. Symbolic Immortality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SAREK'S ka'athyra VULCAN LYRE SONG YOU SHOULD DEFINITELY LISTEN TO: https://youtu.be/aep40ldnxzc
> 
> Amanda's dress (same as last chapter): https://pin.it/4wUvnK6
> 
> ALSO the debate: Are Vulcans cold or hot compared to humans?  
> My lame answer: BOTH. I think that LIKE CAMELS, Vulcans are able to have a wide range of body temperature that fluxes in response to their environment. During the day, when it gets super hot, Vulcans will have a super high body temperature, while during the night, they cool off and feel cold to us. This is what desert camels do, and I trust them. Of course, during heated moments like ~Pon Farr~ their temperature increases as well.
> 
> (And also, much love to all of y'all. Incredibly grateful for the response)

_Symbolic immortality refers to what remains from our lives after death. These may be material (such as what we have built, created, or given birth to) or ephemeral (such as our thoughts, our values, our jokes, our network of friendships, or our acts of kindness)._

_Most humans hope for some form of future immortality for our philosophy, our deeds and our souls._

* * *

It was a strange scene to behold, Sarek thought. A Vulcan toddler, a human female, and a sleeping sehlat.

The boy, Sybok, sobered immediately at his mother’s voice, and he and Amanda looked up to see Sarek and T’Rea at the stairwell. Amanda was crouched in front of Sybok, and her smile had faded into a small, polite one. Her ivory dress and unrestrained hair shone in the light. Her warm brown strands had hints of red, Sarek noticed.

T’Rea spoke to Sybok in Vulcan, and the child then turned to Amanda. His smile was gone, and his expression became controlled. He gave Amanda the Vulcan salute and bowed. “ _Dif-tor heh smusma.”_

“Live long and prosper,” she replied.

Amanda stood, and Sarek looked away from her as Sybok rushed forward toward the Vulcans. The young boy stopped in front of Sarek, who made an effort to maintain eye contact with the child. Sarek could detect hints of trepidation in the shy way Sybok stood.

“ _Dif-tor heh smusma,”_ Sybok repeated, quieter this time.

Sarek’s expression was impassive. _“Sochya eh Dif.”_

T’Rea nodded respectfully at Amanda, and then promptly left with the child.

I-Chaya raised onto his haunches and nudged Amanda’s hand with his nose. She scratched his head as she curiously asked him, “Who was that?”

Sarek joined by her side. The sehlat immediately began to nudge against Sarek as well, who joined in the petting. Sarek found himself strangely reluctant to answer, though he quickly repressed it. “T’Rea is my former bondmate, and Sybok is our child.”

A pause. He could feel her shocked gaze on him.

Sarek, meanwhile, was looking steadfastly at his faithful sehlat.

“ _Former_?”

“Yes.”

She fell silent, and then they were both looking at the sehlat.

“I didn’t know Vulcans separated from each other.”

“Divorce is not a common occurrence, but not unheard of either. Vulcan parents match their child to another when they reach seven years of age. The children become bonded – similar to that of a betrothal. In adulthood, they become mates, and there is occasionally a discordance.”

“Why did you two separate, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Typically, this would be more private of a question than appropriate. But part of him, he found, _wanted_ to explain, and so he took great care in choosing his words. “Our marriage was formed out of an agreement between my family and hers when we were children. She comes from a very influential name, and we were considered compatible. But six years ago, she sought to undergo _kolinahr_ , or the purging of all emotions, and she now serves with the Masters of Gol. Thus, our marriage was annulled, yet our child was born afterwards.”

Surprisingly, Amanda smiled faintly at him. “Sybok. He looks a lot like you. He has your eyes.”

“This is the first I have seen him since his birth,” he confessed.

She froze and turned to him. “Hold on, _what?_ How come?”

Her wide eyes – slightly outraged, he noticed – and elevated tone suggested that she was strangely more distressed about this than his previous enlightenment.

“I had already accepted my ambassador position on Earth by the time of his birth five years ago. T’Rea and I agreed that the boy should be raised with her on Vulcan. It is unusual for the Masters of Gol to have a child among them, but it is a necessary duty.”

Her eyes narrowed. He had the distinct impression that he was being scolded. “He is a sweet and very curious kid! He shouldn’t grow up without knowing his father.”

Sarek shifted and reflected on T’Rea’s previous conversation with him. “He struggles with his emotions.”

Amanda rolled her eyes exasperatedly. “He’s five years old and a giant sehlat just snapped at him.”

The sehlat in reference suddenly yawned and flopped over onto its side. Hands behind his back, Sarek turned to her as she gingerly stepped away. “You handled it quite well.”

She pressed the back of her hand against her forehead. She was perspiring and her cheeks were flushed pink. “As far as kids go, Vulcan ones are a lot easier to manage.”

“You are overheating. We should retreat indoors.”

Thankfully, she did not oppose to this. Instead of retreating back down the stone stairs which they came from, Sarek led her through a set of doors connected to the balcony.

They entered a spacious room that had only mats on the floor. There were shelves along the walls that carried various pieces of art and objects.

“This is a meditation room,” explained Sarek.

Fanning herself with a hand, Amanda walked over to one of the objects in particular. She leaned down and smiled as she studied it. She turned to look at Sarek, who patiently stood waiting. “You know, I haven’t forgotten your offer.”

“Despite my hopes, apparently,” he sighed, though nonetheless amused by her tactic.

Amanda laughed, as he came to join her in looking at his _ka'athyra_. “Well, I am intrigued to hear what a first-place champion sounds like.”

“We do have time, if you would like to hear.”

Her tone suggested surprise. “Now? Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

A smile graced her lips as she nodded.

Sarek lightly picked up his _ka'athyra_. The smooth wooden grain beneath his fingers was cool and familiar to the touch. He had not played it since he was last home five years ago.

He sat down on the floor and placed the _ka'athyra_ against his chest. Amanda sat in front of him, her legs curled up to her chest. She placed her chin on the top of her knees and looked at him with wide eyes. Her smile was great, and her pupils were dilated, and he recognized she was excited.

Perhaps, he looked at her longer than appropriate, as she suddenly reined in her excess of emotion. She straightened and looked at him seriously. “Okay, I’ll behave. Promise.”

He raised an eyebrow skeptically, and almost immediately a smile unbiddenly broke out on her face again.

Sarek found he did not mind at all.

He strummed the strings in one motion and let the note fade into the air before repeating it again. 

When the note faded, his fingers suddenly picked up speed. They flew across the lyre and played a harmonious tone that would suddenly shift into something deeper. Lighter notes were interwoven among the song that vocalized a sense of wonder that he would never be able to put into words.

All the while, Sarek watched attentively to Amanda’s reactions. Amanda had clasped her hands on top of her knees and pressed them against her lips as she attempted to hide her smile. However, although she tried to hide it, he picked up on every reaction – a widening of the eyes, a blink, a smile. She was so unfamiliarly expressive, and he sensed her emotions with every change of the song. However, every time she met his gaze, she would look back down to his hands. Her cheeks remained flushed.

By the end, Amanda no longer hid behind her hands. Her smile was soft, and when the song slowed to mimic the beginning by allowing a few, quick notes to hang in the air, she finally met his eyes.

Sarek realized that the song had ended, and the last note had long faded. But it was as though a delicate string hung in the air and tied the two of them together through their eyes. He found that he didn’t want to break it.

“Ambassador Sarek.”

Amanda immediately looked towards the room’s entryway, while Sarek continued to watch her. “Yes, Minister T’Pol?”

“It is time.”

As he heard T’Pol’s retreating steps, Amanda lightly laughed. He recognized a nervous quality in it.

“Sarek, that was…” She pushed her hair back, shaking her head. “That was amazing. I really enjoyed that.”

“I am glad.”

She smiled, and the two of them didn’t speak for a moment. But eventually, she stood up, and he watched as her hands curled into fists at her side. “I do not want to keep you waiting. T’Pille is probably ready to go as well.”

Sarek stood and placed his instrument aside. “You will not stay for the ritual?”

“T’Pille had informed me that only close family and friends are able to come. I do not wish to intrude.”

He placed his hands behind his back and flexed them. “I would appreciate your presence if you chose to come.”

Amanda slowly tied her ivory scarf back on. Sarek watched her movements interestedly. “Are you sure it wouldn’t be weird?”

“I insist. I will be leading the procession with my mother, but you are welcome to follow. My mother will speak individually to those in her family, and then it will end with just myself by her side. T’Pol has been informed and will guide you.”

She nodded hesitatingly.

Sarek guided her through the halls of the D'H'riset until they reached the spiral staircase.

“Do you live here?”

“I have lived here as a child, but I currently reside in the city close to High Command out of convenience. However, after today, this home will belong to me.”

“And then?”

“My duties as Earth Ambassador would send me away after these proceedings, leaving the home empty and unused. This is not ideal, but perhaps I will find a way to split my time.”

“How long do you think the proceedings will last?”

“Until the end of the year – similar to you and your research.”

His mother greeted them at the foot of the stairs. T’Lara was a traditional Vulcan in all respects, including sharing a disapproval of unmated females and males left alone in a room. He knew her better than most and recognized it when his mother fluidly raised an eyebrow.

In response, Sarek simply offered his arm, and T'Lara graciously accepted.

T’Pol smoothly appeared and began conversing with Amanda. Sarek would have preferred to introduce them, but he trusted T’Pol. She’s had more experience with humans from her time in Starfleet than he had.

Sarek and his mother led the waiting retinue out to the stone porch and then to the stone stairway. Rather than go left like he did to find Sybok and Amanda, he took the stone path on the right that led towards the lone mountain. T’Pau and ceremonial officials of the High Council carried drums and a ka'athyra and led while singing. The procession was a rather stimulating one, compared to most Vulcan rituals. 

Sarek and his mother did not join in. Instead, they walked together, and his mother, in a rare sign of affection, placed her hand on his wrist. He felt the surface of his mother’s essence that he knew well from his childhood. As the winding path led them higher up towards Mount _Seleya_ ’s peak, they took the moment to gain solace in each other’s company under the lowering Eridani star. Sarek had never liked going here as a child – he had lacked patience then and thought it tedious, but now he appreciated the vast beauty that could only be seen from this height.

“I would like to express my regret for not being home in these past five years. I was not made aware you were having further health difficulties.”

“Your presence would not have changed anything, my son. This disease is unfortunate, but I am ready to join with your father once more. It works slowly, but no reason in holding out until I am barely functional.”

Sarek nodded. Vulcans did not undergo _Ha’vik Sadalaya_ lightly, and rarely anyone would question a Vulcan’s decision. He trusted his mother thought about this thoroughly.

“My grandchild, however,” she said blithely, “will need his father soon.”

“You have been seeing him.”

It wasn’t a question, but T’Lara replied, “Of course. After you, Sybok is the heir to the S’chn T’gai line. He will need his father to understand what that requires. It will be beneficial for you both if you were to stay in Vulcan.”

“One would have expected you would have picked a better time for this conversation.”

“A conversation is a conversation, the contents of which do not change with timing.”

Sarek sighed. “I will make an effort during my time left on Vulcan.”

The path turned sharply to the left as it circled the mountain. It was a winding path that required them to go up and down, but ultimately ended high above the Forge. He took the moment to look back at the procession behind them. They had been steadily heading up Mount _Seleya_ for a significant amount of time, and he was concerned that Amanda would be ailing. He could see her below at the very back of the procession, and he was satisfied – if not intrigued – to see she and Minister T’Pol seemed to be in the midst of a thoughtful conversation.

“I do have one last advice to you, my son.”

Suddenly very aware of the fact his mother was able to sense his own emotions, he turned to T’Lara. She was looking down below as well.

“It was not easy for me to decide to depart, as I did not wish for you to be alone in this great universe. You have always excelled with control. You are a diligent follower of Surak, and your faith has yet to waiver. It has made your passed father and I proud. But it is easy for our people to live without meaning. Do not assume restraint suggests solitude, or that control is a cage.”

Sarek reflected about T’Rea. It was more of a partnership, maybe even a friendship, rather than a marriage. Yet he said, “I was not always alone.”

“Yes,” T’Lara agreed. “Your father and I thought you and T'Rea would make a fine match. You both honor our ways and are similar in disposition. But perhaps, too much so. I did not, after all, have a high opinion of your father when we were first matched.”

Sarek raised an eyebrow.

“I had found him too radical. He pushed the limits with his translations, and I did not always support him. But in time, we reached a balance. I can only ask that you find yours.” 

They then reached the entrance of the S'chn T'gai crypt. T’Lara’s aged hand rested on her son’s cheek. “I will see you shortly.”

Sarek nodded and watched as T’Pau and the ceremonials entered the crypt with her. His relatives and others slowly reached the top and gathered around the wooden doors.

He joined T’Pol and Amanda when they arrived at the back. Amanda looked a bit winded, but the temperature had been steadily dropping along with the Eridani star. It took longer for the star to disappear in the sky than the Sun back in Earth’s system, yet currently the whole valley before them and the mountain was bathed in its warm light.

“How are you faring?” he asked Amanda.

She gave him a thumbs up. “It’s a beautiful hike. I’ve never seen anything like this, and I’m incredibly grateful I have T’Pol to answer my questions.”

“It is of no effort,” T’Pol replied simply. “It is refreshing to speak with humans again.”

“I think T’Pol even told a joke,” Amanda laughed lightly.

“Indeed.”

Sarek studied the two women. They seemed to be well-acquainted already.

Before he could respond, a ceremonial called out T’Pol’s name. The ceremonials, including T’Pau, stood outside its entrance. T’Pol excused herself and went into the crypt alone, leaving behind Sarek and Amanda.

He asked, “Do you have any queries on the nature of the crypt?”

“T’Pol was just beginning to explain ‘katra stones.’”

Sarek nodded, as the two looked out towards the horizon. “They are composed of the only known material that is able to retain a Vulcan’s katra. Thus, they are often found in family crypts, where its members store their katras for remembrance and to aid future generations. They are also able to block any telepathic link from the outside world.”

“Why did they call in T’Pol?”

“This is a chance for my mother to privately meet with each family member and friend, and I will be last to see her. I will be there with her when they transfer her katra into the stones. Afterwards, we will return to the D'H'riset.”

“What about her body?”

“My mother will be able to shut down her bodily functions as they remove her katra. Afterwards, her body will be cremated.”

T’Pol soon came out of the crypt, her face smooth as she called out the next person’s name. One of his relatives, a cousin from his father’s side, stopped T’Pol for a conversation.

“I should be asking you as well how you are feeling.”

He looked down at Amanda, feeling only calm and patience. He hoped to show her that so she may feel so as well. “I have had much time and meditations to prepare for this. This is the way of life, and one should not grieve in excess.”

Amanda frowned. “Still, losing a parent is hard.”

Sarek then realized he did not know about Amanda’s own relations. “If I may, I have a query about your parents.”

Amanda tucked her hair behind her ear, and her eyebrows furrowed. She appeared contemplative as she looked out towards the Forge. “My parents divorced when I was ten years old, and my mother remarried early and had another daughter. My stepfamily is lovely, but I don’t see them much. I had lived with my dad until he died from a car crash when I was seventeen.”

He did not know the proper way to respond to her father’s passing. Humans grieved more openly than Vulcans did, and often had elaborate ways of dealing with death.

“You were close with your father.”

“Yes. It was just him and me. He didn’t know how to raise a daughter, but we both liked gardening around the house.”

“You grew vegetation for amusement?”

Amanda lightly snorted. “I suppose so. When my dad and I left my mom, I was pretty unhappy for a while. But my father began growing roses, and it helped.”

Sarek did not understand how this would appease her pain. “Why roses?”

“We moved homes after the divorce, and we used to have these beautiful, breathtaking rose bushes in the yard. I was homesick, so he grew roses to make me feel better. It had always been my favorite flower. ”

“I see. Do you see your mother often?”

“Not really,” she shrugged half-heartedly. “They invite me over during the holidays, but they live across the country, and every time I’m there I feel like a stranger. My mom has her own life now, and I am like a ghost from her past. It’s just easier to stay in San Francisco and join my friends.”

“Humans are social creatures by nature. Does that not bother you?”

“It makes me sad sometimes,” she admitted, looking at Sarek. “But not because of hurt or rejection. It’s just disappointing that my mother and I never had really built a relationship. It is hard to mourn the loss of something if it was never there.”

Sarek paused. “That is very wise.”

“Don’t sound too surprised.”

“My intent was to commend you.”

“Sarek.” He looked down and saw that she was biting down a smile, and he realized it was for his benefit. “I’m joking.”

In total, there were about a dozen members waiting to speak with T’Lara. It moved rather swiftly, no more than a few minutes for each person. Their shadows streaked across the dusty red floor.

“Do you mind,” quietly began Amanda, and he glanced back down at her, “if I ask why your mother decided this? She seemed well to me.”

He matched her quiet tone and despite his efforts, a hint of an ache settled in his chest. “What ails her is not easy to visualize. _Tuvan has-mar._ It is a neurological disease and acts over the span of forty years. My mother, physically, is well and has retained motor function for now. However, her mind is not what it once was. She has –” Sarek paused to consider a word. “ – _episodes_. Her mental control lapses. I am not certain if this sentiment translates well to human culture, but many Vulcans would prefer to use means such as _Ha’vik Sadalaya_ rather than lose their sense of self, as one’s control is everything to a Vulcan.”

Her mouth opened but before she could speak, a familiar figure exited the crypt at last, and a silence fell.

Sarek stepped forward, but promptly stopped when T'Pau announced a name.

“Amanda Grayson.”

* * *

Amanda straightened as the whole entourage, including Sarek, turned to stare at her. She met only Sarek’s eyes with surprise. Maybe with a bit of worry as well.

Whatever similar surprise that might have been on his face vanished, and he simply stepped aside to allow her to move forward. Amanda knew neither of them expected this, and that did little to appease her worries.

But Amanda walked calmly and carefully to the crypt. She only met T’Pau’s strict eyes, who nodded at her with permission to enter. The open set of double doors were elaborately carved on, and at another time, she could’ve spent hours looking at each detail. Instead, she passed the threshold without looking back. The doors swung shut behind her like a coffin.

The entrance let to a dark hall. On the walls were orange stones carved into the likeness of a person’s head. Amanda knew that these were likely carrying the katras of the S’chn T’gai family because they were _glowing_. They hummed and flared as she passed them, and she surreally wondered if they were warning each other.

 _Stranger_ , they’d whisper. _Outsider._

The hall opened up into a cavern. There were candles lit all around, but it was the natural shafts of crystals that protruded from the ground that gave real light. They were the same shade as the head stones in the halls, and she realized that these must be the katra stones. An obsidian stone walkway guided her all the way to the end of the cavern where an alter stood. Ancient scripts were etched neatly into the smooth marble, and the soft orange light from the stones reflected off of every surface.

Her skin tingled in this room, and the hairs on her arms stood on end. She shivered violently, yet was neither cold or hot. There was _energy_ swirling in the air. It circled around her and through her. It brought warmth, as though they were being enveloped by a star’s soft rays. It cocooned her like a womb, as if they were in the cradle of the universe itself.

T’Lara stood by the alter. She waited as Amanda struggled with the overwhelming sensations.

“Come sit, child.”

If called that by anyone else, she would’ve felt mortified. But T’Lara was calm and patient and wise beyond her years. Not necessarily cold, like Amanda initially thought all Vulcans were. Just steady, like a beacon.

Amanda joined her in sitting on a large and smooth horizontal slap of stone. This allowed them both to look at each other almost at eye level. The longer Amanda was there, the more acclimated she felt towards the cavern’s strange energy.

“All of this belongs to the family of my _t’hy’la_ – my husband, who has now passed.” T’Lara pressed a hand to a necklace around her neck. The blue stone seemed to pulse with the same energy as the stones.

“It’s beautiful. It’s _alive_.”

“Yes,” agreed T’Lara. “It carries the wisdom and energy from generations past. The _katras_ of my family is our essence – our spirit and soul. And although I am not bound to them by blood, I have been accepted and forged into one of their own. As the elder of the family, it is my duty to uphold and pass our values. This will now fall to my son.”

Amanda inexplicably felt incredibly raw and vulnerable, as if the emotions of past S’chn T’gai members were brushing against and rubbing away her barriers. She only trusted herself to nod.

“It is custom that you and I are to mindmeld and relive our shared memories – the good and the bad. Unfortunately, we have few. Have you ever experienced such a thing with one of my race before?”

“I am not sure,” Amanda answered honestly. “When Sarek and I crashed on our way to Raal, we touched and for a moment, I _felt_ him _._ It was brief, and I didn’t know at the time that he was telepathic. He later said he was injured and projecting.”

T’Lara seemed satisfied by Amanda’s response. “It is not often that a trained Vulcan unconsciously reaches out, but there have been certain exceptions.”

The elder Vulcan offered her right hand to Amanda. “You are unable to meld as we do, but I can attempt something else. I would like to impart a lesson, should you accept it.”

Amanda didn’t hesitate to slide her left hand in T’Lara’s. The elder’s skin was thin from years in the sun, yet Amanda didn’t feel any different. But she remembered that as a touch telepath, T’Lara was able to read her.

“We do not share many memories together. But my lesson is this: to show you the essence of who my people are – of who I am. We do not feel so openly as humans, nor do we feel the same things. But emotions nonetheless run deep within my race, and I wish to show you and help you understand.”

Amanda didn’t understand T’Lara’s wish to expose her to such an intimate part of their culture. To show Amanda, a stranger, her own katra. But Amanda wasn’t going to deny her.

T’Lara sensed the agreement before Amanda even vocalized it.

In a smooth motion, T’Lara wrapped her hand around Amanda’s wrist so that her three middle fingers rested along the inside vein of Amanda’s arm. With her free hand, T’Lara suddenly reached up to Amanda’s neck and pressed down on her pulse point.

And then, Amanda was _pulled_.

* * *

A _katra_ was hard to put into words. It had been described as the soul, spirit, and essence of a Vulcan. But even then, those terms were meaningless.

Amanda found herself in an alien terrain. The way T’Lara processed her world and emotions was so different from Amanda that she quickly found herself lost in the complexity of it all. So, she decided not to fight the pull of the tide and just slipped into the current towards something greater. She had no direction, no sense, no being. By only T’Lara's will, Amanda existed. 

Humans had their emotions in a deep well. They would tip in and just _fall_. They could simply float, if they chose to do so. Or they could sink beneath the weight of their emotions. It could consume them completely until they drowned and no longer breathed. It encompassed their whole being, and nothing less.

But Vulcans carried a still pond. The waters were shallow but spread a great distance. They did not – could not fall in all at once. They never drowned, but if they stood in long enough, they could begin to feel the weight of the water pulling them down.

All Amanda knew was that she _felt_. It was what she felt in the cavern but concentrated, as though she was in the center of a burning star, where gravity is trying to collapse, and pressure is trying to expand. But instead of fighting for dominance, they worked in a balance.

It was Life and Decay.

Energy and Disorder.

Restraint and Freedom.

Control and Emotion.

All constantly at ends but creating a necessary balance.

And then suddenly, T’Lara surrounded her, and piece by piece, she put Amanda back together.

* * *

Amanda was weeping, her tears slipping down her face. She wept for T’Lara – this woman who she met only today, but now felt like family. She wept for the incoming and inevitable loss of such a beautiful life. She wept for the lost chance of not knowing her more.

T’Lara still held her hand. This time, Amanda could feel the elder Vulcan streaming in serenity and calm into her. She felt it like a cool salve against her heated blood and feverish skin, and soon, her gasps quieted, and her breathing levelled out.

With her other hand, T’Lara gently wiped away the remaining tears from her cheeks.

“As a human, you honor me with your sorrow and grief. But I will tell you now, Amanda Grayson, that for you to thrive in our world, you must learn to set your feelings aside for the good of the many. Of family.”

Amanda willed for her heart to steady, and she wiped her eyes and cheeks until no moisture remained.

“Do you understand?”

The finality of which T’Lara spoke confused her, and in her state, she found the T’Lara’s latter words difficult to fully comprehend. Yet something clicked in the way T’Lara looked at her, and Amanda remembered the star – the life – within this woman.

The elder Vulcan wordlessly nodded, satisfied. She let go of Amanda’s hand. T’Lara’s emotional presence disappeared, but Amanda was able to stand on her own.

“It is unfortunate that our time together is short, but I will always be here should you ever need me. As for now, I would like to see my son.”

When Amanda reached the end of the hall, she paused and stood in front of the great dark doors. Amanda carefully folded the scarf over her arm and took a deep breath. She felt dazed, as if she just had woken up from a long forgotten dream.

The doors opened at her knock, and Sarek was right there, waiting. Everyone was silent as she stepped out and met Sarek’s gaze. He was facing the crypt, but he had paused and turned his head to look at her.

Somehow, she saw differently than before. Not physically or literally. But she now simply understood. Although imperceptible by human standards, she could now see his worry.

But she was still Amanda Grayson. Her feelings, her memories, her instincts. And Amanda Grayson smiled.

It was small, but it seemed to comfort Sarek, who moved and entered the crypt.

She maneuvered to the back of the crowd towards the edge of the mountain. The Eridani star was much lower than before, and Amanda roughly estimated it would be dark within an hour.

T’Pol appeared at her side, concerned. Amanda had noticed while they climbed up the mountain together earlier that it was easier to read T’Pol than most Vulcans. T’Pol spoke quietly. “You were in there for almost an hour.”

Amanda frowned. No wonder Sarek looked so concerned.

“Are you well?” T’Pol asked.

Immensely grateful for her, Amanda tugged on a loose strand of hair. “I think so. Just tired.”

Which was true. She felt incredibly exhausted and did not look forward to the trek back down. The sole good thing from crying though was the cathartic calm that followed.

“I have enjoyed our discussions, Amanda. It is not often I have human guests, but it would honor me if you would join me some time before you depart Vulcan.”

Amanda smiled softly. “I’d like that.”

With T’Pol’s urging, Amanda sat down on a stone at the edge.

At some unspoken signal, T’Pau and the ceremonials eventually entered the crypt.

In some sort of weary state, she watched over the Vulcan Forge as the star slowly crept down. She could see the D’H’riset’s windows gleaming from up here. A dry breeze rustled her loose hair, and everyone stood so still that they could’ve been lost, timeless monuments.

Just when the Eridani’s rim first brushed the horizon, the crypt’s doors opened. Amanda shot up and saw T’Pau coming out. The elder began singing somberly, and one by one, the attendees, including T’Pol, trailed behind her. In a solemn line of song, they reached the stone stairway and began the descent.

Unsure, Amanda carefully walked towards the crypt. The doors were open, but Amanda was afraid of what she’d find inside. So, she waited.

By the time Sarek came out, the half-hidden Eridani bathed the world in vibrant orange light. He stood by her in silence while gazing out towards the star, and Amanda scanned his face. This time, she saw nothing. Not serenity or sorrow, just impassive neutrality.

“Are you alright?” she finally asked.

“Yes.”

Amanda blinked.

Sarek took a step forward, his eyes still looking out over the horizon. “We should begin the descent.”

“Are you sure you don’t need to sit for a moment?”

“Unnecessary. I am well.”

“It's okay if you’re not.”

He finally looked at her, and nothing in his expression changed. “Amanda, it is done.”

She swallowed hard and walked ahead towards the stairs to lead them down. She was unnerved, and she didn’t want him to see.

Because Sarek just lost his mother. The world lost a _beautiful_ person – a whole being brimming with intelligence, power, and life that was just now gone. The ache in her chest from such a loss felt like a tumor. It just grew the more she thought about T’Lara, and the cold, sobering inevitability of her death.

And Sarek did not seem fazed. Amanda knew – especially after T’Lara’s lesson – that he was repressing his grief, but it just simply could not be that easy – to lose a mother and act like nothing has happened right after. She could faintly hear the sorrow in the song of the ceremonials, who were somewhere far below them, yet she only heard silence from Sarek. It unnerved her because Amanda did not know the depth of his emotions.

And suddenly, as the stairs headed up over a boulder, Amanda had to know. 

She had to know if this was something - if this could _be_ something.

Amanda turned around, forcing Sarek to stop on the step below hers. Now eye level with him and only a breadth between them, she allowed her to sink into this strange, impulsive feeling. The Eridani light painted her world in orange and red. The world could be on fire, and she wouldn’t know. What difference would it be if she was already burning?

She took a moment to really look at him - his angled features, his strict mouth, his strong, calm eyes. Or maybe it was indifference?

Strangely, Sarek didn’t say anything and simply watched her as well. He was so close that she could count his eyelashes.

Amanda gently placed a hand on the middle of his chest to balance herself - to ground her. She leaned in and brushed her lips against his.

Sarek was _heat_. His skin burned compared to hers. But when she didn’t feel him return in kind or even push her away, cold doubt unfurled in her chest. She gently pulled back and began to turn.

But then, his hand caught her bare wrist, his thumb resting on her pulse.

Just like that, the world shifted and locked.

And in a quiet movement, he pressed his lips to hers.

* * *

It wasn’t like a supernova,

or a lightning storm.

It was like crumbling sand, 

gently giving way

under the soft glide of a tidal wave, she thought.

* * *

Sarek, for once, only felt.

It was gentle, warmth.

Peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	12. The Self-Perception Theory

_The self-perception theory describes the process in which people, lacking initial attitudes or emotional responses, develop them by observing their own behavior and coming to conclusions as to what attitudes must have driven that behavior._

* * *

Sonak stared at Amanda, and she can see practically see the gears turning in his head. The Vulcan then glanced down at the briefcase with bright, obnoxious cartoon stickers plastered onto its surface.

“You are quite certain this is what you wish?”

Amanda nodded as she shifted to support the storage box against her hip. “It makes sense. My team and I cannot be here, but that does not mean the trials should stop.”

“These devices still belong to the Federation, do they not? Will you not have need of them during your work with the Universal Translator in Shanai'Kahr?”

“Although the UT follows the same mechanism as these L’tak Terai devices, it is going to work at a much more massive scale. Thus, we’re going to build it from scratch. We have the schematics for these devices, and we really have no more need of them.”

She couldn’t stop from beaming. “ _And_ as for your first question, I would like to transfer possession of this device from me to you. You would essentially become the primary investigator and take over this phase of experiments.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Sonak asked, “May I ask why you decided this?”

“I really don’t want our work to go to waste. My team and yours have worked so hard on this these past few months, and results were beginning to show. Not to mention that we also planned on extending operations out to Raal’s Learning Centers – all of this should still continue. It would be selfish of us to hold onto the project when we know you guys are more than capable of taking over.”

“You honor me with your trust. You all will be mentioned and included in any recognition. And, of course, you are welcome to come back should you ever have the opportunity.”

She grinned and tilted her head. “You’re gonna miss having us humans around, won’t you?”

Sonak frowned.

Amanda laughed as she stepped in the lift, her silent guard Boron following after. “Expect to see us again before we depart from Vulcan!”

“Live long and prosper, Dr. Grayson.”

Her PADD was filled with notifications from the mess that was her team’s group chat. Last minute questions, updates, and complaints. Just the usual. They have pushed hard these past few days to meet today’s moving deadline. Their apartment was packed up and now empty – cleaning up the aftermath of last night’s drinking fest made her sadder than it should have. And now that Amanda had handed over the reins of the L’tak Terai project to Shi’Kahr’s Learning Center, all that remained was ensuring everything was in their shuttle and then departing.

She clambered into the Federation cruiser behind Boron, who did not offer to help carrying her items, and she herself didn’t ask.

Compared to T’Pille, who had also acted as her team’s guard for the past two months, Boron was a quiet individual. When encouraged, T’Pille was rather talkative and seemed entertained by this squadron of humans. She entertained their questions and human eccentricities, though she did not understand them all. Boron, however, rarely spoke – he rarely did much of anything, really. He was their shadow, who seemed content to just oversee their safety. Most of the time, he blended in with his surroundings, and Amanda admittedly often forgot of his presence. He was unquestioningly diligent, but Amanda frankly knew nothing about him. Anytime she or the others had attempted to initiate conversation with him, it was often stilted and awkward.

So, she was a bit surprised when after they settled, and the cruiser lifted into the air that he was the first to speak.

His voice was startingly airy and almost feminine, as if he was about to burst into song. It was a stark contrast to his monotonous tone, which never wavered in cadence. “Am I permitted to submit a query?”

Amanda, who sat across from him, turned her head away from the window to look at the Vulcan. He looked like the Vulcans she saw in textbooks – donned in old, very traditional robes and rings. Amanda has learned in her time that Vulcans were logical, yes, but had their distinct personalities – unique habits and tendencies, but Boron was… a statue. Neutral, in all sense of the word. She tilted her head. “Of course.”

“You have been a visitor to Shi’Kahr for the past 118 days. Did your experience satisfy your expectations?”

“It exceeded them.” She chose her words carefully. “Like most who visit a foreign planet, I inevitably carried generalizations and vague ideas of what Vulcan would be like. But my expectations were insufficient in comparison to your world’s beauty and culture. To speak truthfully, I was surprised by how much emotion it evoked in me – which is a good thing to humans.”

“Clarify.”

She gazed out the window behind him. She thought of T’Lara and her ceremony – the singing, the music, the _feeling_. “Oh, well. I suppose there are many aspects of your culture that I felt resonate with mine. Those experiences would stay with me for quite a bit of time, for the better.” Amanda took a leap. “Some feelings are too strong for words, would you agree?”

“I do.”

She tried not to let her surprise show at his blunt affirmation. “You do?”

“It is why I underwent _K_ _olinahr_.”

She vaguely remembered its meaning. “The purging of emotions?”

“Yes.”

“It must be a difficult process.”

“The fusion of intellect and spirit rarely is,” Boron agreed. “A difficult discipline, yet necessary. It is considered to be the final step of truly embracing Surak’s teachings. To fully embrace logic is an honor.”

He took note of her silence. “I assume that the concept appears wrong to humans.”

 _Yes_ , she thought, but she shook her head. “It’s just different, and who are we, as humans, to decide whether what is right or wrong?”

Boron gave a short nod, but she couldn’t help but continue, “You don’t have to answer this, but what made you decide to do _K_ _olinahr_?”

“During the Confederacy’s Great Reform seventy-two years ago, the Earth Embassy was bombed. My parents were in the building and died.”

Amanda blinked, and she couldn’t help but offer a soft, “My condolences.”

He continued, unfazed. “I was young and volatile. Emotions are a parasite – they strip away our defenses and defile the soul of my people, so I chose to purge myself of them. I did it earlier than most. Most choose to wait after they sired an heir or until later in life.”

“You have no regrets?”

“None. I am free, and it allows me to do what I could not before.”

“Well,” Amanda inhaled. “Then I congratulate you. I am only sorry that your parents are not among us now.”

“I am not.” Boron spoke simply. His eyes were wide, steady. “Without their deaths, our people would not be where we are now. The needs of the many outweigh those of the few.”

The cruiser suddenly jolted as settled down on the Federation Headquarters’ landing pad. Amanda could not have been more relieved for their arrival. She stood and offered him a forced smile, “Thank you for everything you’ve done for us, Osu Boron. I wish you well.”

He nodded, blinking. “I came to serve.”

Forcing herself to not look back, she entered the lift and pressed the button for the Federation’s loading docks. As soon as the lift’s doors closed, she slowly exhaled, as she tried to overcome whatever unease had settled over her.

 _Dings_ rapidly began setting off from her PADD, and it managed to convey the agitation of the sender. It was a welcoming distraction, but unable to reach for her device with the large box in her hands, Amanda sighed and prepared herself for a scene that she just knew was waiting for her. Yet she couldn’t stop thinking about Boron. Her interaction with T’Rea, who had also undergone _K_ _olinahr,_ was short, and the woman did not nearly have this effect on Amanda. Amanda certainly did not expect to have such a heavy conversation with Boron, however she felt that she strangely learned quite a lot from him.

Amanda heard the argument before the lift even opened. Joran had a wonderful skill in making his booming voice project across a wide space. She adjusted the box back to lean on her left hip and steeled herself.

And when the lift open, she stepped out and immediately froze.

Not because of Joran and Havin’s rather loud argument with a group of equally defensive Vulcans, but because Sarek stood right in the center of the loading docks observing the chaotic scene. As soon as the lift opened, he met her eyes.

Her brain crashed in 0.3 seconds, but before she could even process his presence, a loud “Amanda” snapped her out of it.

She looked at Joran, who agitatedly gestured at her.

Both exasperated and relieved, Amanda quickly walked over. But as soon as she saw the reason for their argument, her eyes widened.

“Oh my god,” she blurted, as she squatted down beside the transportable stasis chamber. “This can’t be here.”

While Havin and Joran made exclamations of _ha’_ s and _see_ ’s, the Vulcans just stared at her. She did not recognize them, and they certainly weren’t Federation workers. And then she saw their badges.

_The Vulcan Science Academy._

Typical.

The one who seemed to be the leader stepped forward, and his badge told her his name was Levin. He raised an eyebrow down at her, and it rubbed Amanda the wrong way.

“You are the lead investigator?” She could swear she could hear the skepticism.

She set her box on the ground and straightened so she could look at him in the eye. “Yes.”

Levin spoke in a direct, final tone. “We gave the workers our equipment, and they handled most of the packing. Our equipment is already in the shuttle, and it would be illogical for us to move our things simply for these wires.”

“These are not just _wires_ ,” pressed Amanda. “These are _Aekiasn_ whisps, extremely rare Andorian vegetation with neural conducting properties. When untreated, like they are now, they are very sensitive to one thing, and one thing only.”

Havin scowled. “High concentrations of nitrogen – like your solid nitrogen right here. And that is the one damn thing you managed to put _right beside them_.”

“We needed a stasis chamber, and this was the only one with available space.”

Making great effort to not snap at Levin, she spoke bluntly. “That’s because it is carrying sensitive material.”

“There are no specifications.”

“Jesus.”

Amanda shot Joran a look that clearly said _be quiet_. She pulled out her PADD, opened the specs, and handed it over to the Vulcan. “It’s because _I_ have them.”

“You have the specifications and are the lead investigator, yet you were curiously not here to manage your team.”

Her eye twitched. “We had everything packed as well, but my team has been double checking the equipment for issues like this.” She pointed to a section on the screen. “See? ‘Sensitive to Nitrogen. Do not expose sample.’”

Amanda kicked the lid of the stasis chambers shut. “And it literally says that right here on the front in big orange letters.”

“We need a stasis chamber.”

“I am aware, Levin. It just cannot be this one. Joran and Havin can help find you stasis chambers already on board that have room.”

She shot a look at the boys who didn’t look so thrilled by the idea. “ _Right?_ ”

“Yes, boss,” they muttered. They locked up the chamber and joined with a few of the other Vulcans to head to the ship.

“That is sufficient,” Levin relented. Only another male, Venir, stood beside him. “And your name?”

“Grayson.”

The way the two Vulcans exchanged looks did not bode well with her. Their impassive faces turned somewhat hard. Venir asked, “As in Dr. Amanda Grayson?”

She shifted but didn’t blink. “Yes.”

“Curious.”

Suddenly, the two Vulcans straightened, and Levin bowed while Venir stiffly stood.

“Ambassador,” greeted Levin.

Amanda mentally steeled herself as she turned to see Sarek beside her. She felt a faint, traitorous warmth in her cheeks.

Sarek considered her and then the Vulcans, to whom he nodded at. “Is there anything amiss?”

“An issue has just been sorted out promptly,” replied Levin. Venir, meanwhile, was watching Amanda and Sarek very intently.

Perhaps sensing his colleague’s hostility, Levin bid them goodbye, and the pair rather stiffly left. This left Amanda and Sarek standing around her box.

She felt very much out of her element. While she liked sticking to small groups, she was not shy. But right now, she could not think of anything to contribute to the conversation and remained silent. She grimly realized she was _flustered_.

It had been three days since his mother’s _Ha’vik Sadalaya_ ceremony. Three days since they kissed. Three days since Amanda had last heard from or seen of him. Part of her wondered if she just imagined the kiss, but then she’d remember vivid shades of orange and warmth, and she knew she couldn’t have. She really, sincerely could not have imagined anything so crazy.

The rejection she had felt was strangely humbling.

Amanda didn’t tell anyone about what happened and simply threw herself into packing. She hardly knew how to comprehend it herself. Thinking about it stressed her out, so she focused on the present – on planning, on friends, and on goodbyes.

Because Amanda was prideful. She would not appear fazed, and so, as if she was speaking to Aisha, she raised an eyebrow. “You seemed to be enjoying the show earlier.”

Sarek paused as his eyes scanned her face. “It was an unusual situation, and I thought it would be _educational_ to witness such an interaction.”

Amanda’s lips quirked up, because that is such a Sarek response. His eyes flickered to her mouth.

Her small smile was quick to fade, however, as she suddenly felt quite tired.

“You appeared troubled upon departing the lift.”

“I just – ” _don’t have any clue on what to say to you_ “ – had an enlightening conversation with Boron.”

Sarek raised an eyebrow. “Indeed.”

Recognizing it was his way of saying _continue_ , she crossed her arms, as if hugging herself. But her gaze was steady, contemplative, as she stared out. The docks took up the span of three whole floors. With one whole side of the building gaping out into the sky, it allowed larger transportation shuttles to fly in and out. She could see a glimpse of the skyrise. “He was explaining _K_ _olinahr_.”

“An extreme path, to a human,” he said, though not unkindly.

“Does every Vulcan choose to do so?”

“No. It is a personal preference.” Something made her glance at him, and she vaguely marveled at how different Sarek’s eyes were to Boron’s. “I myself do not seek it.”

Amanda blinked, and, inexplicably, her cheeks warmed. Having quite literally nothing to say, she quickly reached down and hefted up her box.

“Do you require assistance?”

Amanda placed it on her hip and lightly shook her head. “No need. It’s not that heavy.”

It was, but – of course – her pride.

Sarek quietly followed her as she headed to their shuttle, and she had a strange moment of déjà-vu. Just three months earlier, they had just landed in Vulcan. She had taken in her first look of this alien terrain with Sarek beside her. They had stood in the midst of the chaos of a loading dock, much like now.

It wasn’t until she began to climb up her shuttle’s ramp that Sarek carefully spoke, “I had much time to contemplate over these past few days, and there is something I would like to discuss –”

“Amanda,” called out Havin.

Relief flooded her as she quickly turned to the large mechanic.

Havin plucked the box from her hold. “We figured out the stasis crisis. Pilot says it’s time to go.”

She nodded, and he bustled away.

Sarek was standing in his ambassador position with his hands behind his back, as though he was about to propose a compromise. But he looked considerably more uncertain after Havin’s short interruption. Due to the incline of the ramp, they were at eyelevel. A flash of orange momentarily disoriented her.

“Everything alright?” she offered, albeit a bit awkwardly.

Sarek, for once, hesitated. “Upon your return in two months’ time, may the two of us reconvene?”

For all the current awkwardness, she was going to miss him. She softened and gave a small smile. “I would like that. If, you know, I can manage to get on a ship without any near-death experiences.”

“There is a 1.8% mortality rate from shuttle accidents.”

“What are the chances I get into _another_ crash?”

“Quite slim. 0.82% to be precise.”

Amanda laughed at that, and perhaps Sarek’s expression softened as well.

An alarm blared at them as a warning for ramp closure. Orange lights flashed over them, briefly illuminating their feature. Yet they both seemed reluctant to leave.

“Well,” Amanda slowly walked into the shuttle. “Don’t anger any murderous extremists, alright?”

“Then I do not believe I will be doing my job efficiently.” He paused and took a step back off of the ramp. “Take care, Amanda.”

“And you, Sarek.”

The ramp folded upwards, and soon, Amanda found herself staring at a wall.

* * *

Amanda was always a little more mature for her twenty-four years of age. Ever since her parents divorced, she always did her part to help around the house. Her dad was great, but – well, he was never the one to ask about her day or push her in academics. Not to mention that Anthony Grayson was terrible when it came to submitting things like bills or tax returns on time. He always supported her, yet he would often leave her to her own devices for quite a bit of time. Her mother had always complained about how ‘flighty’ he was. 

When he passed away right when Amanda was on the precipice of adulthood, she certainly did not have much of a choice to figure out then and there what she was going to do with her life.

She had always put education on a high pedestal from a young age. Letters never made much sense to her, and feelings of abandonment by her peers and teachers lingered as she fell behind. It made her feel insignificant and helpless at a young age, and the increasing arguments and eventual divorce between her parents did little to help. It wasn’t until when her neighbor Mrs. Costa, a retired English professor, offered to tutor her that Amanda began to really flourish under her unique yet effective approach. She and Amanda often read together, and the elder encouraged her to find her own sense among the letters. They read anything from fairy tales to college-level textbooks, and all the while, Amanda learned far more about the world than she did with the public-school system. When Mrs. Costa offered to homeschool her, Amanda and her parents didn’t hesitate to accept. She was a huge influence on why Amanda had eventually become a teacher herself.

Determined to make up for lack of progress, Amanda excelled quickly and eventually surpassed her peers. She started college a year early under a scholarship – the same year her father passed away. Rather than accept her mother’s offer join her _other_ family in North Carolina and deal with the awkwardness and, perhaps, the lingering resentment Amanda had, Amanda sold her father’s house and car and used the money to buy her own tiny apartment in San Francisco.

Eventually, after taking loads of summer classes, Amanda graduated by the time she turned twenty and was accepted into a master’s program – specifically one for developmental psychology. Her studies focused on learning disorders in children, such as dyslexia, and it did not take long for her path to cross with Aisha, who was in the same year and specialized in neuroscience. Together, they endured the brutal yet stimulating world of academia and adulthood and eventually received their master's degree. After a drunken night with a _eureka_ moment, they were hired by the Federation to develop their device that was, at the time, a little more than a dream.

Point being, Amanda never gave herself much time do anything else but _work_. Not to say she didn’t have a social life or friends, but rather, her spheres of work and friends were closely intertwined. Her colleagues were her friends, and she never had a desire to move beyond it. She was more than happy doing what she loves, which also exposed her to a diverse group of brilliant individuals. But like many in academia, she would admit her love life had always been rather lacking. She wasn’t _shy_ , rather – she just never entertained the idea of romance. She was warm and approachable and kind, but she was not one to bend and ‘put herself out there’. Her past relationships were more of _partnerships_ and would end when she’d inevitably found herself thinking of them not unlike colleagues whom she had to schedule a time to see. She was never fazed for long and would happily direct her focus on her work, much to Aisha’s exasperation.

So, after Amanda _finally_ (and for the last time, she vowed) ‘put herself out there’ only for it to leave her utterly confused, it was rather unsurprising for her to completely throw herself into something she can understand – the Universal Translator.

The Universal Translator project engulfed her team’s entire focus for the next two months. They rarely took advantage of weekends, and instead worked hard to get as much as they can done before the Federation’s two-month deadline. Her team knew that this project would require at least another year of work. In fact, they planned on only solidifying final schematics by the deadline. The Federation, if not satisfied by their progress by this time, could easily kick them out of the process. But Amanda reasoned that would be unlikely – they were entrenched in the process and to have any other team take over would require weeks of preparation.

As for Amanda herself, leading Shanai’Kahr’s xenolinguistics, epigraphists, and engineering teams, along with her own team, involved juggling more knowledge than Amanda could ever thought possible. Her own team was composed of her (the “dreamer,” designated Joran), two linguists, two engineers, and one neurologist. She integrated the linguists, Fasa and Titus, and the mechanics, Joran and Havin, with their respective Vulcan teams. Aisha, as their neurologist, understood better than most how the device was able to mimic brain activity, much like a computer artificial intelligence.

As a developmental psychologist and educator, Amanda didn’t really serve a grand purpose in the calculation-heavy designing process. But she was able to pick up and juggle all aspects of the project. Things she didn’t understand never scared her, not like letters once did. Amanda, after all, knew the original device like the back of her hand. Similarly, a Starfleet captains may not understand all the physics and science of their ship, but nonetheless they knew how to use it. She could understand and refer back to any explanation given to her by the engineering team on how and why they made decisions. She was able to provide input and suggestions. From the linguists, she listened and learned. She learned about morphology and syntax and phonemes – and how they are applying it to the UT. Amanda was the grand conductor of it all.

Even in her spare time between meetings and during meals, she made the most of it. She often ate with the linguists or really any Vulcan. She had expressed a desire to learn more of the Vulcan language during one of their first meetings, and the Vulcans leapt at the chance to teach her. The linguists helped her make sense of the tongue-twisting and fluid alphabet. The engineers would speak to her in Vulcan, even if they used extremely niche phrases like “abrasion,” “conductor,” or “explosion.” It accelerated her learning and soon, she was able to understand Vulcan conversations quite sufficiently. Her speaking still had much to be desired, but they were patient, if not amused.

Amanda ran on coffee and five hours of sleep, but she took a moment every day to be grateful. She loved her team – humans and Vulcans. She loved having to run between the linguist and engineering departments, and the crazy debates she has witnessed (and maybe even took part in) between the two races. Amanda loved the huge, eclectic group and thrived off of the chance to learn and lead.

Her favorite nights were those at the end of the week. A bit power-crazed, Amanda had declared everyone was required to attend weekly bonding nights. She did have to quickly clarify that it wasn’t the Vulcan definition of ‘bonding’, but instead human relationship building. It often involved drinking, singing, and laughing, at least for the humans. Fasa would play his guitar, and Titus and Amanda often sang dramatic duets. They taught the Vulcans card games, including poker – much to Havin’s enjoyment and dread. And soon, bonding nights evolved to poker nights. Amanda suspected the Vulcans were more amused and content to watch them as they changed personalities after a few gulps of 'a simple combination of carbohydrates and fermented alcohol.'

It was one of these nights that Amanda drank a bit too much than she usually did and felt a bit more self-pity than she ever had. All in all, a terribly messy combination.

While most of the Vulcans and the boys played a raucous (by Vulcan standards) round of poker (whoever gave the scientists chocolate, Amanda would have to find them and give them a raise), Amanda meandered into Aisha’s bedroom.

Aisha, who had long since said goodnight, was now snoring into her pillow. Her long, braided hair was carefully wrapped in a silk scrap of fabric. Lying on her belly, she was the picture of peace and contentment.

Amanda definitely should not disturb her, she thought, as she tumbled into Aisha’s bed and started laughing.

Aisha groggily cracked an eye at the sudden weight beside her. Her words were smushed into the pillow as she mumbled, “Amanda, what the hell?”

With little warning, Amanda yanked on Aisha’s fluffy comforter. Amanda quickly enveloped the both of them underneath its weight and pulled it over their heads.

“Aisha,” Amanda whispered loudly in the darkness, bumping shoulders with her friend. “ _Aisha!”_

“ _What?”_ she whispered back.

Amanda burst into uncharacteristic giggles. “I did a bad thing _.”_

“Uh huh. What did ya do?”

Amanda snorted. “Promise you won’t freak out?”

Aisha raised an eyebrow, and it caused Amanda to rupture into another fit of giggles. “Uh huh.”

“Okay.” Amanda sobered, her smile disappearing. “I –” And then she burst into hysterical laughter.

“I’m sorry,” Amanda snorted, unapologetically.

Aisha started cackling, which definitely did not help matters. Eventually, Amanda attempted once more to speak the cursed words, but she fell into a brutal cycle of laughter. Amanda was many things, and a happy drunk was certainly one.

“ _Okay, okay,”_ Amanda hissed, cutting across Aisha’s laughs. “Okay, you ready?”

Aisha blearily nodded.

“Okay.” Amanda turned onto her side, so that she mirrored her friend. Feeling quite calm, Amanda deadpanned, “I kissed Ambassador Sarek.”

A second of them staring at each other, and then, simultaneously, they ruptured into hysterical cackles.

“Oh my gosh,” gasped Amanda. “I’m going to piss myself.”

“Oh, love,” wheezed Aisha. “You’re truly something else – I’ll give you that. Now what is it you want to tell me? Did you spill wine on one of the linguists again?”

Amanda burst into laughter again. Holy shit, her ribs were hurting so much.

“Amanda?”

Honestly, this situation was quite hilarious. She should really write this in her journal and –

“Amanda _,_ ” sang Aisha, and suddenly, her friend was peering over her, a slanted grin on her face. “You were joking, right?” she laughed.

In a second, Amanda sobered and answered seriously, “Yes.”

It was truly a testament to their friendship that Aisha’s eyes widened and gave the loudest gasp known to mankind. “Amanda – what the _– you kissed the Ambassador.”_

Amanda groaned and suddenly wailed, “I kissed the Ambassador.”

“Lord almighty, Amanda, you better tell me everything right now.”

And so, she did. Her usual eloquence was thrown out the window as Amanda clambered out a mess of a story. All the while, Aisha listened, eyes wide.

“ – you know, I was like I think I really, really like him – but can he even like me, like forget _would_ he but _could_ he, you know? Because Vulcans have this – I can’t talk about it, I think his mother would quite literally smite me from the beyond – but basically Vulcans – they _feel,_ but it’s all repressed. So, I was like hey, I have an idea: I’ll just kiss the guy – and boom.”

“And did he?”

Amanda blinked at her. “Did he what?”

“Kiss back?”

When Amanda laughed, it sounded less like a hyena but rather a deflating balloon. “No.”

“No?”

“Well, he just stood there and took it like a champ, and so, I, you know, moved away. But then – ” Amanda abruptly cut off, as she suddenly fixated on a speck of fluff on the blanket that still covered them. Dazed, she reached up and touched her lips.

Aisha snapped her fingers. “And _then_?”

“He kissed me.”

Aisha smacked her chest, as though she took a blow. “My heart can’t take this. _He kissed you?_ Like he initiated it.”

Amanda shyly nodded, and then burst into giggles once more.

“And then what?”

Amanda spoke through her laughter, which slowly became more hysterical. “And then nothing! When we, you know, _finished_ , he said,” Amanda dropped her voice and spoke deeply and monotonously, “‘We should make haste before they inquire on our whereabouts.’ And then we walked back in _silence_ , Aisha. I felt like I was going to the principal’s office.”

“He didn’t say anything after?”

“Before I left his home, he said good-bye to T’Pille and me – very _politely_ and cordially, may I add.”

Aisha whistled. “I would’ve paid to see that sexual tension.”

“There was none,” Amanda wailed. “I was absolutely mortified, and he’s a Vulcan – what sexual tension could there have been?”

“Oh, I beg to differ. I’ve had many meaningful stares with our Vulcan compadres.” Aisha sat up and tilted her head. “Vulcans kiss, right?”

“I don’t think so,” Amanda moaned, rolling onto her stomach. Her voice became muffled. “I think I’d combust if I saw Vulcans making out on the streets.”

“Well, Vulcans are private individuals and would not condone such displays on the streets, as you say,” Aisha mused. Her voice picked up speed, not unlike it did when she verbally worked through problems at work. “And Sarek is the Vulcan Ambassador of Earth. Surely, in his years he was bound to pick up on the implications of a kiss. The fact that he initiated one says a lot.”

“He was probably just curious.” Amanda had no idea how Vulcans expressed affection, if they ever did. Even if he did know about it from his time on Earth, did he truly understand the meaning of it?

Aisha scoffed. “I’m curious about murder, but I’m not just going to go test it out. Curiosity, my friend, will only take you so far.” Her voice brightened. “But good thing we are right by a room of currently inebriated Vulcans!”

Amanda almost snapped her back in half as she pushed herself up. “Aisha, _no_.”

“It’ll be fine,” Aisha assured as she danced away from Amanda’s tackle. “I won’t say anything about you.”

“Aisha – ” Amanda hissed as she lunged towards her.

But too late, Amanda fell behind Aisha as they stumbled out of her room into the living area.

The poker players hardly glanced at them, as Havin and one of the linguists stared at each other in what appeared to be a moment of truth.

"You're bluffing," Havin accused.

"Vulcans do not bluff."

Havin puffed his chest up and placed his cards face up. Amanda glanced at the cards on the table and widened her eyes.

“Straight flush,” he said, warily as if preparing for a blow.

The Vulcan across him raised an eyebrow. She deliberately placed her cards down. “ _Royal_ flush,” she said, with no restraint in smugness.

Havin swore colorfully, as he pushed his chips towards her.

The Vulcans around the table nodded approvingly, while Joran, Titus, and Fasa patted Havin on the back comfortingly.

Aisha, meanwhile, plopped herself in one of the seats, right next to an unsuspecting Lurek, a young Vulcan engineer who had a bit too much chocolate cake. Amanda stiffly sat on the other side of him, as she squinted at the cards Havin dealt her.

Amanda pushed in her chips for the opening bet, as Aisha shamelessly began, “So, I’m quite _curious_ about something, Lurek. May I ask you about it?”

“You are permitted,” he replied, if not a bit distractedly as he stared at his cards. An inebriated Vulcan, they had all discovered, had more difficulty in dividing their attentions efficiently.

“Do Vulcans ever kiss?”

“I am not aware of the meaning of ‘kiss’?”

When it was her turn to bet, Amanda tossed in her chip a little too hard.

“You know – ” Aisha waved her hand around vaguely.

Lurek mimicked her movements, his movements a bit slower than usual. “I do not.”

“- Do Vulcans ever press their lips against another’s as a sign of romantic affection. Like a quick, casual peck on the lips?”

Amanda did not miss how Lurek turned to Aisha, his glassy eyes squinting at the latter suspiciously. Amanda shot Aisha a glare from the other side of him.

“Your query is unusual. I will submit a returning query on why you ask.”

Aisha blinked innocently. “For science,” answered Aisha sagely.

“For science,” he agreed somberly. “Occasionally, Vulcans will do the touching of lips. However, for us it is an act that remains in the privacy of a bedroom, as it is an intimate affair that proceeds copulation.”

Aisha caught Amanda’s panicked, queasy look. As Amanda had a mental freak out because _oh my gosh, Sarek probably thought she was trying to initiate sex_ – Aisha was quick to ask, “Well, not strictly bedroom, right? Humans do it for anything – as a greeting or a goodbye!”

“It is known that humans are more expressive and lenient on such acts,” Lurek relented. He not-so indiscreetly scooted away from Aisha.

“You see,” Aisha said loudly over the table, to no one in particular. “Vulcans also see kissing as a romantic act and know that humans kiss _casually_ without suggesting copulation. How neat!”

“I do not believe your intentions were for science,” muttered Lurek.

“I fold,” grumbled Amanda, sliding her cards away.

“Same,” Aisha chirped, as she tossed her cards to the side and promptly dragged Amanda away back into her room.

“You see,” Aisha repeated victoriously as they fell back into bed. Amanda made to put herself in a wallowing blanket burrito, but Aisha tugged her blanket back and threw it over the both of them. Once again, they hid their heads beneath its covers. “In either culture, a kiss like that is surely not platonic.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Amanda said doubtfully. “This is _Sarek_.”

“Ambassador Sarek is rather stoic,” Aisha agreed. “Even for a Vulcan – which makes it even more telling!”

“It makes it even more futile. With everything going on, I doubt a relationship is on the table. We got kicked out of Shi’Kahr. And he’s the Ambassador. I feel like it would be illegal to even try anything.”

“Not at all – you’d be protected by the Interspecies Relationship Accord. Any two consenting individuals are protected under the Federation – as long as you both are sentient beings capable of reason.”

Amanda shook her head, panicked. “We are getting way too ahead of ourselves – I quite literally have no idea on what he feels about me.”

“Well, we’ve been here Shanai’Kahr for the past – what – six weeks? We have two more weeks until we head back to Shi’Kahr.”

Amanda sighed. “When he came to see us off, I agreed to meet with him before we left for Earth.”

Aisha guffawed. “This is gonna be good.”

Amanda gave a noncommittal grunt, as she buried her head in Aisha’s pillow. For a moment, silence lapsed.

Until, of course, Aisha tensed. “Hold on a second.” She flicked Amanda’s head. “Hey, are we just going to ignore the fact that Lurek just admitted that Vulcans have sex?”

Amanda slowly turned her head, as they both processed this information. “I mean, we knew this.”

“Yes, but I still stand by my theory of eye-fucking.” Aisha glanced to her PADD. “But the question comes to mind, what does their _genitalia_ look like?”

Amanda narrowed her eyes. “Don’t,” she warned.

Aisha shrieked as Amanda successfully tackled her and pushed the PADD away. But of course, Amanda was still quite inebriated herself and quickly found herself tangled among the sheets. Aisha triumphantly picked up her PADD.

“There are some things best left unknown,” cried Amanda.

Aisha shushed her. “I won’t tell you anything, I promise.”

Amanda groaned and fell back on the bed, a bundle of limbs and fabric.

It only took a minute for Aisha to sigh dejectedly. “Vulcan anatomy is only available to those in the xenobiology medical field. Vulcans are so damn secretive. This only supports my theory that Vulcans have some weird – ”

Suddenly, the door barged open and the boys traipsed in. Immediately, Aisha began screaming on the top of her lungs, “ _Get out! We are talking about boys – no boys allowed. No boys –”_

They all tripped over themselves in fear as they escaped, all but little Joran, who screamed back, “ _I want to talk about boys!”_

Amanda paused. “Okay, you’re allowed.”

Joran bounded to the bed, and it did not take long for the two to update him on Amanda’s unique little problem.

* * *

Later that night, long after the effects of alcohol had worn off, Amanda finally allowed herself to think about Sarek in peace. With so many weeks passed, it was getting easier for her to reflect on that moment on Mount Seleya with minimal worry or embarrassment. She could think clearly, _logically_ about her own emotions.

Amanda replayed all the events leading up to the kiss – the shuttle, the gala, the crash, the kiss, and everything in between. When did it even happen? When was the moment that she had fallen?

The only thing Amanda can say with certainty was that on Mount Seleya in that single moment in time, she just _knew_. It was a quick and easy realization, as if it was always there, just not addressed. So quick that she hardly thought, and it was easy as breathing to let it consume her and lean forward.

Amanda remembered the icy feeling of rejection when he didn’t return the kiss. _But then he did_. Not just returned a kiss – he initiated it.

She had kissed him because she wanted to, but also because she needed to know if he felt like she did. But overall, Amanda was more confused than before. It’s not like she was touch telepathic.

Which led to _another_ problem. What did Sarek feel when he touched her wrist before the kiss? She hardly knew her own emotions then, and it embarrassed her to think of what could’ve leaked out.

T’Lara had warned her that in the Vulcan world, she had to restrain her emotions to thrive. But she was human. A visitor. Amanda was not expected to integrate into their culture, and she was supposed to go back to Earth after this project. The human mind's capacity for memory was not like a Vulcan's. In a few months time, Amanda weakly assured herself, this will be like a forgotten dream. But the rational part of her smiled at her patronizingly and said _if only it would be so easy._

Still, Amanda was grateful for her time away from Shi’Kahr. She missed the city, the students, T’Pille, and _him_. But out here, she felt like she could breathe and bring order to her thoughts. Away from the politics and the confusion. The time and space were good for her. For better or worse, it allowed her to realize that as days passed and her passions cooled, her feelings for Sarek remained very much alive in the ashes.

Thinking about her upcoming reunion with Sarek, Amanda vowed that she would handle whatever waited for her in Shi’Kahr gracefully. During her lifetime, she had known loneliness, helplessness, and grief. She would not cry or breakdown at rejection. She was Dr. Amanda Grayson, and her pride will not allow anything less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM A DAY LATE AHA. I'm super glad y'all seemed to enjoy the last chapter! I literally wrote the kissing scene the same time I wrote chapter one - so it was always sort of leading up to that moment! As a chemistry major, I rarely ever write creatively so this has been amazing!!
> 
> I wasn't really satisfied with this chapter from when I first wrote it, so I basically doubled its length and extended it! Which explains why it is super long. The story has been quite heavy for the past few chapters, so lets add a bit of ~spice~ (and chocolate).
> 
> But seriously, you guys are AMAZING and I truly appreciate every single one of you!! The comments give me life, so let me know what y'all think :))


	13. The Social Exchange Theory

_The social exchange theory asserts that people weigh the potential benefits and risks of social relationships. How people feel about a given interaction or relationship depends fundamentally on the outcomes that they perceive to be associated with it._

* * *

Talok of the N’mar Sol clan was, in all things relative, a conventional Vulcan. His scores were perfectly adequate during his time in the Learning Center, after which he underwent _Kolinahr_ for three years and then attended the Institute of Defensive Arts. Upon graduation, he had since served the Confederacy of Vulcan’s Security Sector. According to his profile, he meditated, was not emotionally inclined, and diligently worked – all in all, a model citizen.

So it made his apparent proclivity for violence and murder rather unanticipated.

Sarek closed the file on his PADD before gazing into the force field.

Talok rested on the ground, his knees bent beneath him in the _lesh’riq_ meditation posture. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to pay no mind to his environment or circumstances. It would be futile, Sarek supposed. Talok’s containment was a makeshift prison composed of only a force field programmed, which also prevented him from seeing beyond the enclosure. As crime was rare among their people, there were only a handful of containment institutions on the whole planet – none of which were in Shi’kahr’s vicinity. For now, this field would suffice.

“I confess I have not yet ascertained my reason for being here, Minister Valkh.”

The Minister of Security raised an eyebrow. “You have no interest in our recent apprehension of the murderer of the _kominh?”_

“My interest is unrelated to my presence. I am assuming that I have been requested for more than just appraising him.”

“You are correct, Ambassador.” Valkh nodded to Talok. “Besides admitting to the murders of the four humans, he has revealed nothing of true importance. Considering my _reputation_ against Federation relations, there was a reasonable expectation that he would speak with me. However, he has not, and you have a certain aptitude for verbally striking down the most disciplined of Vulcans.”

A flicker of amusement rose in Sarek, but considering the inappropriateness of the situation, he ignored it. “A legislative proceeding is quite different from an interrogation. I offer my services, yet considering the gravity of his crimes, I recommend utilizing the services of the Masters of Gol.”

“Of course. Master T’Rea is en route." Valkh glanced towards him as he mentioned Sarek's previous bondmate. "I foresee a pleasant reunion.”

Whatever amusement was there disappeared rather quickly. “Indeed.”

“Master T’Rea will arrive presently. Until then, you may choose to proceed with your efforts now or after.”

“Did he resist detainment?”

“No.”

“Has he given an explanation?”

“I have not yet asked.”

At Sarek’s inquiring glance, Valkh steadfastly gazed back. “As Minister of Security, I care little for reasons, Ambassador. Information about accomplices, future plans, and other threats of disruption of peace is more critical.”

“Perhaps. Yet I believe that motivation, the root for his reasons, will say just as much.”

“A human approach,” he said dismissively.

Sarek did not deny this and instead stepped forward to the edge of the field. “I will speak with him now.”

Valkh inclined his head. “Although well trained in defensive arts, I do not foresee him being aggressive, and guards thus have so far been unnecessary. In the unlikelihood that you are attacked, it will take 3.3 seconds for security to enter. I recommend evading his attacks until their arrival.”

“Your words are considered.” When the field parted, Sarek promptly stepped in.

Valkh and the room disappeared from behind him. From the inside, only ripples of blue light that composed of the field’s walls were visible. It encompassed him and Talok in a moderate sized bubble, cut off away from the world.

Talok opened his eyes at Sarek’s entry, but he made no move to stand or offer any sign of respect. Rather, the young man – not much younger than Sarek himself – simply addressed him. “Ambassador.”

Vulcans were not as proficient in tonal changes as the mercurial humans, and Sarek was not an exception. His firm words were impassive, direct, and leveled. “As a _vre’kasht_ , an outcast, you have lost the right to be addressed by your name.”

“A small sacrifice.”

“I disagree. Our name is our history. Even Surak understood the profundity of family, of the clan. Without name, we have no place. Without name, one is hardly different from an animal.”

“Without name, one can become their own.”

Sarek settled on a pad across from Talok – left there from previous visitors. “And what is it that you had wished to become? A messiah? A prophet?”

“Nothing so nonsensical. Only to do my duty to our people by ensuring that we do not stray any further from the path of logic - to ensure our purity.”

“Your hands are stained with the blood of innocents. I see no 'purity'.”

His flat eyes glinted in the blue light. They did not match his monotonous, soft words, which carried an eerie sense of sincerity. “Humans are just flesh and bones, Ambassador. What happens when they die? Nothing. They carry no katra, no meaning. In that sense, it is they who are hardly different from animals.”

It was only years of training that allowed Sarek remain impassive at his appalling words. “For one who claims to uphold Surak’s teachings, you transgress his disciplines.”

“On the contrary, Surak was well aware of certain inevitabilities for killing. In his words, ‘As far as you are able, do not kill.’” Talok tilted his head. “However, logic is a constant. It is not restrained to the teachings of one lone Vulcan. Surak may have put us on this path, but even his words are a mere interpretation of what logic is.”

“I fail to see how _humans_ are such a threat to logic. They are, despite your evident disregard, life. Vulcans are more than disciplined in retaining our way of life in their presence.” Sarek simply did not agree with his people on the matter that humans actively sought to bring upheaval to the galaxy. That would be giving them too much credit, in his opinion. Their methods may not always be graceful, but they were typically executed with overall good intentions. Just as humans had begun to see Vulcans as unfeeling and robotic, Vulcans had manifested this extreme persona of the typical human: rash, destructive, and incapable. 

“It is more than humans. It is all of these aliens – this Federation. They squabble amongst themselves and with others of the galaxy, and thus drag our resources with them. We could achieve more – much more – without them. Only we have reached true enlightenment - purity. Under the guise of Starfleet, they preach peace and prosperity, but only invite war and conflict. Romulans, Klingons, humans – time after time they drag us into their savage wars.”

“Yet you have killed innocents. Your words are contradictory.”

“‘The needs of the many before those of the few,’” Talok quoted. “Four humans will hardly be missed. Their sacrifice was necessary to make it clear that they are not welcomed. Their deaths have caused discourse among the Federation during these past few months.”

“Not enough to end the proceedings.”

“No,” Talok agreed. “But their kind no longer entered our planet since. Therefore, the proceedings could continue without these aliens – none of their lies, none of their corruption. Only Vulcan words of truth.”

“And are there others who have assisted you in this? Others who share your intense opposition towards offworlders?”

Talok tilted his head, as if genuinely surprised by his question. “Of course. There are many who share the belief that we must act now to prevent our eventual, inevitable decline. We number quite greatly, Ambassador, though we do not know each other. In fact, I do not believe I knowingly spoke with one. Nonetheless, we all agree on the agenda, but how we decide to enact it is quite up to us individually.”

Sarek considered this. “You admit to the murders. Any other crimes you wish to confess? Did you play a role regarding my cruiser’s malfunction en route to Raal or any hackings at the Learning Center?”

Talok raised an eyebrow. “I am not familiar with either incidences. I have no qualms to you, Ambassador. To harm a Vulcan is not my intention. However, your _entanglements_ with humans have undoubtedly caught quite a few attentions. While I see it as an unfortunate byproduct of your duty as Ambassador, others may see you as a more direct threat.”

“Do you know these ‘others’?”

Sarek saw no indication that Talok did, as his expression and tone changed little. “I do not know any names.”

Sarek’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly, yet a sudden opening in force field appeared. Recognizing this cue, Sarek swiftly stood and imparted without words.

Once outside, Sarek bowed. “Master T’Rea. Always good fortune to see you.”

T'Rea was a tall, stately woman with a stifling presence - one that demanded respect. Once upon a time, her impatience and sharpness were something to behold, but now with her still demeanor, it was as if time parted around her in deference. Her sleek black hair was unbound and long, as was common among the Masters of Gol. She tilted her head, gazing at the criminal. “Perhaps not this occasion.”

“Quite,” Sarek agreed. He turned to address both her and Valkh. “From his words, it seems that the long-elusive Logic Extremists are not as solidified as we initially assumed.”

“It is hardly better,” noted Valkh. “A unified group is easier to root out than numerous of individuals who act on their own accord – each of which varies on their own approach.”

“These acts against offworlders, though rare, have occurred ever since the Great Reform not a century ago.” T’Rea turned her head, her sharp eyes meeting theirs. “Many have believed that opening our world to offworlders is what allowed the Romulans to infiltrate and corrupt our government and our people.”

“There was never a clear pattern in these acts.” Sarek’s hands clasped behind his back, his finger tapping in thought. “Yet this criminal has implied that while there is no formal group, no formal meetings, there remains some form of communication. One that allows them to not see or hear one another.”

“Technology,” offered Valkh. “Yet we found no ominous plans or messages in his PADD.”

“A telepathic network,” declared T’Rea. The two men turned to look at her. “He was an accolade of the Masters of Gol when he underwent _Kolinahr_. Accolades are encouraged to refrain from speaking during the process, and thus many have relied on touch-telepathic communications during necessary situations. Such methods can be utilized on the streets of Shi’Kahr – without knowing another, one can touch and mentally pass on messages.”

“It is entirely probable. Did he show any conceding inclinations during his kolinahr?”

“None. He entered only a few years after myself, and I do not recall anything of note.”

Valkh gestured to the force field. “During your session, it would be beneficial to locate any information about such methods or any other matters relevant.”

“As well as identification,” added Sarek. “I am quite certain he is aware of who has been meddling in my affairs, though he does not know their name.”

“A mindmeld is a fluid, complex affair,” T’Rea said sagely. Her words abruptly became commanding, not unlike an instructor. “It is hardly so simple as plucking leaves from a tree – especially when done to one who has underwent _Kolinahr_ and been trained in many mental practices.”

Valkh and Sarek shared a glance. “As one so capable as you," began Sarek courteously, "I am certain you are more than suitable for the task."

T’Rea eyes narrowed, unimpressed.

“Whenever you are ready.”

T’Rea soon entered the force field, and the Valkh and Sarek watched from the other side.

Unlike the latter two, T’Rea offered no greeting. Talok steadily stared at the woman, who did not hesitate in reaching forward and placing her hands on his face.

Sarek himself was once rather intimately familiar with T’Rea’s mental capabilities. She was always well adept in telepathy and in tune with the psionic field. Lacking any subtlety or comfort – as was the way of Vulcans – she entered the mind like a blunt knife and often took only seconds to retrieve what she wanted. Of course, during his past time as her bondmate, Sarek was no exception - especially during their disagreements. 

He felt no pity as he watched Talok endure T’Rea’s search. A mindmeld could be a perilous thing if forced – for both sides. If Talok were able to get the upper hand, he could shred T’Rea’s mind if he pleased. But few were any match for a Master of Gol, and it was thus only during situations of security that they would agree to offer their services to the Confederacy.

At first, their faces were neutral. But over time, Talok’s eyebrows furrowed in discomfort, while T’Rea’s remained serine.

Suddenly, Talok’s body went slack. The Vulcan, once sitting upright, gracelessly fell over onto the ground.

T’Rea stiffened and stood straight, a sharpness in her tone as she spat out, “ _Nirak._ ”

The force field fell, and the Valkh and Sarek stepped forward to study the body at their feet. Sarek himself felt little surprise, if not irritation at the criminal's rash decision.

“The fool sensed me overpowering him,” sniffed T’Rea. “He dishonors the ways of _Kolinahr._ ”

“Were you able to ascertain any information?”

She frowned, her eyes far away as she attempted to make sense of the fragments of his mind. “Only whispers. Most were nothing of note – just delusions that he considers as fact. However, I do believe he has been alone in his crimes. Yet he is aware that there is something greater being planned.”

“Clarify.”

“I know little, only that he has been made known to that there is something put into motion – one that he himself was not privy to all the details. A meeting, a protest, or an attack – I do not know.”

“When?”

“I am uncertain. However, the proceedings regarding the Articles of Association is related.”

Sarek turned to Valkh who was staring at the body, troubled. “It is logical to consider that the proceedings are under threat, Minister.”

“Perhaps. Yet I cannot stop them from occurring just based on _whispers_. This is hardly concrete evidence for an attack. I will speak with the rest of the Command, and we will decide on additional security measures.”

Just then, a group of Vulcans entered the room. “Excuse me,” Valkh nodded to Talok's body. “My team will handle this, but we will require the room.”

Sarek and T’Rea swiftly departed. It wasn’t until they reached the end of the hall, away from the others, that Sarek inquired, “How fares the child?”

“Sybok appeared to have enjoyed his recent stay at your residence and has also begun his studies at the Learning Center.” T’Rea stopped and turned to face Sarek. Her dark eyes were impassive. “Yet a temple is no home for a child.”

“He has fared well in his initial years,” pointed out Sarek. “He says as much during his stays at my home.”

“While he has had more opportunities to be with his father these past four weeks since T’Lara’s passing, I am well aware your time on Vulcan is limited. He will reach an age when the temple will not be enough. He will require more social stimulation than what we have to offer.”

“Do you wish for him to leave you?” inquired Sarek, a small frown gracing his mouth.

Her eyes narrowed. “Do not question my loyalties to my child. As a Vulcan who had undergone _Kolinahr_ , I may have been relinquished from emotion, but memories, attitudes, and thoughts still function. I am simply quite aware that his situation is not an ideal upbringing, and he requires more.”

“I can hardly turn away from my own duties on Earth.” Sarek gazed out the window. “Yet I agree, as well. There is a month left of the proceedings. I will decide on possible courses of action until then.”

T’Rea nodded, but an approaching pair caught their attention.

Boron was leading a somewhat familiar figure - a young Vulcan female with pale hair, a rather unusual color that was sported by only a small percentage of the Vulcan population. Most of the Vulcans in the building, including Sarek, wore the Confederacy of Vulcan’s badge, yet this one donned a Federation pin signifying her role as a Federation ambassador.

"Master. Ambassador," bowed Boron to each respectively. "Ambassador T'Mir has requested your presence, Ambassador Sarek."

T’Rea swiftly gave her farewells, which included a firm glance towards Sarek, and departed. Sarek nodded to Boron, who swiftly parted ways, before turning to T'Mir. “I assume you are here for the matter of the apprehended criminal.”

“Yes. However, it seems my arrival was too late. The Federation will not be pleased to hear that he had not answered for his crimes.”

“Neither will Earth.” Sarek was not eager at the prospect of fulfilling his own role as representative of the Confederacy and informing them. The humans had a right to be distressed, yet it befell on Sarek to maintain pleasant relations.

“All the benefits of being an ambassador.” T’Mir nodded to one of the empty conference rooms. “It is fortunate that our paths crossed. I ask for a moment of your time.”

“Certainly.”

In the privacy of the room, T’Mir did not make to sit, and he understood this would be a short meeting. Indeed, T’Mir spoke forthrightly. “As I am sure you are aware, the situation at the Klingon Neutral Zone has been quite tense. There have been more skirmishes than the Federation is comfortable with, and it often seems we are only inches away from the precipice of war. The problem partially lies that there are far too many areas that remain unclaimed. Therefore, both sides have agreed to hold a rare meeting in defining these borders in ten days. Ambassador Sarek, I am requesting for you to represent the Federation on my behalf in a diplomatic mission.”

“May I query why you are unable to fulfill these duties?”

“The query is unnecessary.”

Sarek raised an eyebrow, yet he kept his suspicions to himself. “I only represent and operate under the Confederacy of Vulcan as their ambassador, not the Federation. I am uncertain our government would be pleased about my sudden departure during these proceedings.”

“You have succeeded in representing Earth so far, and now the decision rests on the voting group. You would be more instrumental to the Federation. I will speak to the High Command,” asserted T’Mir, leaving no room for opposition. “In the matter of Klingons, they will understand that this situation will carry precedence regarding safety in our realm.”

“It is an honor to serve,” accepted Sarek, as was custom. A thought unbiddenly came into his mind. “How long should I expect to be absent?”

“You would depart tomorrow, and the mission will take an estimated twenty-six Standard days.” She seemed to notice Sarek’s gaze, which appeared uncharacteristically faraway. “Is this acceptable?”

Sarek snapped out of his hesitation. “Yes, I have a scheduled meeting, but I will return on time.”

T’Mir nodded. “I am certain your experience with offworlders will serve you well. I will send the itinerary and relevant information shortly. _Dif-tor heh smusma._ ”

He returned the _ta’al_. “ _Sochya eh dif.”_

* * *

The Klingons’ history with the Confederacy of Vulcan was comparably more peaceful than with United Earth. Their history with the latter had begun with a series of blunders and offenses that were no more serious than those committed by upset children on a playground. Yet considering how both races were rather _sensitive_ , it was ultimately hardly a surprise how quickly and easily contempt festered. The Klingons began to trust Vulcans less when they began to mingle with Earth and eventually partnered in creating the Federation. Still, out of the four founder species of the Federation, the Vulcans were always preferable in dealings with the Empire. 

Recently, the Federation and the Empire had begun to engage in somewhat of a cold war. Scuffles in the neutral zone were growing in frequency, yet communication between the two sides was very limited. The Federation thus hoped to establish clear lines of the neutral zone and divvy up territory. 

The Federation had their _USS Kelvin_ escort and accompany Sarek for the diplomatic mission. Captain Richard Robau was known for his flexible ability to handle sudden and tense situations. Despite Sarek's initial analysis which concluded that Captain Robau carried a concerningly relaxed demeanor when on the ship, Robau was known to have a leveled, yet decisive head that made him ideal for handling border disputes. Thus, the _USS Kelvin_ was often used to monitor and manage incidences at neutral zones and borders.

The meetings with the Klingons went rather satisfactory. Sarek managed to obtain most of the Federation’s wanted list regarding certain systems. He was quick to pick up on Klingon debate strategies and thus soon managed to estimate their decisions and tactics. The elders of Cancri IV mediated the meeting between the two sides, and often stepped in if there seemed to be an impasse.

Overall, it had appeared that the mission would have ended on a satisfactory, unproblematic note. That was, of course, until Sarek overheard a conversation.

To say he was eavesdropping would be incorrect, as that would imply that he had actively and deceptively sought to seek information. Rather, it seemed that the Klingons were not aware of his superior Vulcan hearing and his limited, but still sufficient knowledge of the Klingon language.

Sarek recognized it was two of the Klingon’s military generals. From their forceful, harsh way of speaking, Sarek could only understand fragments of the conversation.

_“- time jump… data incomplete – ”_

_“The followers of Kahless… oppose. The time stones… on Boreth.”_

_“…Time travel… weapon.”_

Naturally, as soon as Sarek and his entourage boarded back onto the _USS Kelvin_ and entered Federation Territory, he informed Captain Robau of his discovery. Within minutes, Sarek was in front of the holographic projections of a handful of Federation officials.

After Sarek once again recounted what he had heard, Admiral Irina Chandra frowned. “You are quite certain you heard ‘time travel’, Ambassador?”

“I would not have reported if otherwise, Admiral. My Klingon is not fluent, but I say with certainty that I am not one to accept anything but certainty.”

“Time travel,” muttered Councilman Aeonis, his blue antennae twitching aggravatedly. “If the Klingons were to achieve such a thing, the results would no doubt be catastrophic.”

Suddenly, another hologram popped up beside the admiral. It displayed a young woman and a man, both of whom donned a black Starfleet badge that signified their ranks among Section 31.

“Excellent,” said Admiral Chandra, satisfied. “Operative Mike Burnham is a xenoanthropologist. Burnham, are you aware of ‘the Followers of Kahless’ from the planet Boreth.”

Mike Burnham frowned, glancing at the woman beside him. The cadence of his voice was slow yet deep. “Boreth is a planet in the Klingon Empire. Little is known about the Followers of Kahless, but they contain several monasteries on Boreth. The planet is considered to be one of the most sacred spaces among the Klingons.”

“Have there ever been mentions of ‘time stones’?”

“There are certain monasteries that contain crystals that are regarded as priceless – rare minerals that are guarded heavily. I have not come across any mentions of ‘time’, however.”

“Would such a thing be possible? A time crystal that could jumpstart time travel?”

Mike grimaced and nodded at the woman beside him. “I believe my wife would be more capable in answering. This is Dr. Gabrielle Burnham, a specialist in quantum mechanics and an engineer.”

“Mentions of such crystals are not uncommon in my field,” assented Gabrielle, her eyebrows furrowed. Unlike her husband, she spoke with a sharp bluntness not unlike a Vulcan. “There are theories of minerals that are able to exist in a non-equilibrium matter state and be used as a constant, inexhaustible energy source capable of warping time. However, these are only models. We must have a sample to conclude any capabilities.”

“We have a planet to start with at least,” mused Admiral Chandra. “I will speak more to Admiral Patar and Section 31 regarding future discourse. I will be in touch, Dr. Burnham.”

The admiral turned to Sarek. “Ambassador, your information is appreciated and will be focused upon. Thank you for informing Starfleet.”

Councilman Aeonis nodded. “The Federation notes your success with the Klingon meetings as well, Ambassador.”

“I came to serve.”

As soon as the holograms disappeared, Captain Robau let out a long whistle. “‘Time travel’,” he echoed in disbelief, as the pair walked down the halls of the _USS Kelvin_. “I do not get paid enough.”

“You do not get paid at all,” corrected Sarek. “None of us do.”

“Precisely my point.”

Before he parted ways with Robau, Sarek inquired, “Captain, may I query on our estimated arrival?”

“We will arrive to Vulcan in eight days, four hours. Thinking about the day they announce the voting results for the Articles of Association, right?”

“Certainly,” Sarek replied, as he mentally calculated the hour that he, as well as Amanda, would be arriving to Shi’Kahr.

“Not to worry, Ambassador. We’ll be arriving right on time.”

Sarek considered heading to his quarters, yet he was not taken by the idea. His mind felt much more stimulated than usual with so many thoughts coursing through. Meditations will be of use later, he decided, but for now, Sarek desired to explore the starship.

He soon found himself in one of the several observation rooms of the _USS Kelvin_. It was a breathtakingly wide and tall space with a whole wall of glass. Its emptiness was startlingly, and his footsteps echoed across the steel floor. Only a single, long metal bench ran down the length of the room, and he, relishing in the solitude from the ship’s bustle, sat upon it and gazed out into the white and blue streaks characteristic of warp travel. The soft, hypnotic hum of the ship lulled him into the stream of his thoughts.

As a past astrophysicist, Sarek still carried a certain fascination with space. The strange workings of the universe always felt unsolvable and would likely forever remain so. The concept of time travel was not foolhardy – after all, time was but another form of space – yet even he could not help but marvel at the uncertainty of it all. There was a grace in not knowing – in solving the improbable. It was an art in itself. Once upon a time, Sarek had considered joining the Vulcan Expeditionary Group, yet now he was the Vulcan Ambassador of Earth.

Even he will admit that life can be rather unexpected.

He supposed that was a byproduct of having a long lifespan. Compared to humans, Andorians, and the like, Vulcans had more time to explore multiple pathways. Sarek spent forty years excelling in the research field on Vulcan, and even he had found that he had desired to be of use elsewhere. Poltics was not that far of a leap for him, not with his family’s history. As his father had stated to him once, Vulcan had many great scientists, but few great politicians.

Sarek’s political career was still relatively young. He had spent two years on Earth as an attaché for his grandfather Solkar, who Sarek – after showing a proclivity for interacting with non-Vulcans – then soon replaced after his retirement. As shown by his recent mission with the Klingons, Sarek had still quite a bit to offer in the realm of politics.

Yet not for the first time in his sixty-two years, Sarek found himself in a dilemma. He was bound to his duties – duty as a father, a S’chn T’gai member, a Vulcan representative, and a Federation ally. It often felt as though each had a line tied to him, and they constantly warred in dragging him one way to the next. T’Lara’s last urging to stay on Vulcan, a mirror of T’Rea’s own insistence, often echoed in his mind. His son was at a young enough age that Sarek’s absence, though not desirable, would not be greatly felt. Yet as Sybok matured, Sarek would need to play a greater role in his life. However, his obligations to the Confederacy were unquestionable. His role frankly required him to be on Earth. When Solkar became the first Vulcan Ambassador of Earth, Sarek’s father had endured his absence. Logically, Sybok would endure as well without him. But Sarek’s father had a mother – a mother who was not a Master of Gol.

There was also another line – a new line that Sarek had only recently even acknowledged. Gentle, yet somehow stronger than the rest. In these past few months, Sarek would repress any thoughts relating, but recent events demanded that he confront it. Even now, there was a ghost of _her_ touch.

Sarek had spent the three days preceding her departure to Shanai’Kahr meditating. He had considered all of the aspects of their relationship. He thought out the logistics and weighed certain factors into consideration. He played out each possibility. Ultimately, there was only one logical decision to be done, and he believed it necessary to inform her. However, Sarek did not have sufficient time to speak to her before her departure as he had planned.

So, in the solitude of space, Sarek had spent much time reevaluating all possibilities. He had approached the matter factually – logically, and now there was nothing to be done until he informed Amanda.

As for what will happen after… well, Sarek will wait after their meeting in deciding beyond that.

Instead, he allowed himself, briefly, to wonder (he did that a lot nowadays – it was both frustrating and fascinating). Would Amanda like it here? Would she have enjoyed sitting here beside him, as they gazed out into the strange vastness and mysteriousness of space?

Based on his analysis of Dr. Amanda Grayson, the answer was _no_.

It was more likely that she would point out its dangers and reveal her illogical trepidation towards space and heights – all the while providing a detailed and elaborate defense regarding the necessity of fear in a person’s psychology. Her slim hands would move with every word, enunciating her point. 

The thought strangely amused him.

A sudden vibration broke him of his reverie. Sarek pulled out his PADD and accepted the call, not knowing that it would provide a solution for some of his predicaments.

“Ambassador,” acknowledged Ambassador T’Mir. “I have a proposition for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To emphasize a small distinction bc *im all about the details*: Sarek is the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth (meaning he represents the Confederacy of Vulcan regarding Earth affairs, which is why way back in chapter 1 Amanda asked HIM to approve her Federation-funded EARTH project to be on Vulcan) while T'Mir is a Federation Ambassador (she goes on diplomatic trips to represent the Federation and on occasion represents Vulcan TO the Federation).  
> (MINOR SPOILER FROM DISCOVER SEASON 2): I love doing Easter eggs, and that was quite a significant Easter egg from ST Disco, which never really explained how Section 31 (and the Burnhams!) became alerted about Klingon's interest in time travel - I thought it would be fun to tie it in! But of course, Sarek's a little bit distracted at the moment.
> 
> I miss Sarek/Amanda moments too - I hope they reunite soon >:) don't worry kids I have a plan. And also I apparently miscounted the number of chapters this whole time aha, so its 19 instead of 18. I hope it being a bit longer is not a bad thing!  
> LASTLY, are any of you guys going to watch The Lower Decks?? It's def different from the typical ST content, so im terrified yet excited!


	14. The Law of Common Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning down below (possible spoiler)

_The law of common fate states that two elements moving together in the same direction or fashion tend to be perceived as joined. The elements appear to be a part of a unified whole._

_Similarly, we tend to follow continuous, uninterrupted movement – anything that deviates attracts attention._

* * *

**1801 Galactic Time - _USS Kelvin, Alpha Quadrant_**

Sarek entered the bridge of the _USS Kelvin,_ his eyes sweeping around the countless of monitors and controls that lined the room. The bridge crew hardly glanced at him, as each member was fixed on their independent duties. There was a neat order to the chaos, where every flashing light and every sound was followed with a designated action. It was a space of controlled movements and synchronized purpose that flowed under the direction of Captain Robau.

“Ambassador,” the captain greeted from the chair, beckoning Sarek over.

Sarek offered a small bow. “I am grateful for your invitation, Captain.”

Robau flippantly waved his hand. “This has been your first time on a Starfleet ship, right?”

“Indeed.” Sarek’s attention soon fixated on one the screen of the navigator, and he extrapolated that she was preparing to drop out of warp. “My duties on Earth rarely gave me reason to leave the planet.”

“Well, no better way to bask in her glory than on the bridge.”

The helmsman, a young blond human male, notified, “10 minutes until we drop out of warp and arrive at Vulcan, Captain. ETA is 1811 Galactic Time.”

The front viewscreen displayed white light streaking past the ship as they travelled through the warp field. The time was displayed in bright red letters on the screen as well. It was not often Sarek was on a Starfleet ship, and even he had admiration for such a technological marvel.

This mission was certainly educational. Sarek’s previous interactions with Starfleet were few, yet he had a preconceived notion that the service was, although admirable, far too free reigned during their missions. Most of the captains in Starfleet were human, and each ship was thus subjected to their captain’s own individual tendencies. There were webs of regulations and expectations established, though not enough – at least, that was what most Vulcans believed. There were little similarities in how each ship confronted a problem, and this introduced far too many uncertainties. This was a large reason why Vulcans preferred to join the Vulcan Expeditionary Group.

On Sarek’s part, he believed that the captains, who were trained and renowned for their skills in commanding, fighting, and enduring, were not always competent when it came to diplomatic matters. They were far too personal, for too subjective in their views. They could not help but compare others to their own values. A great deal of weight was given to Starfleet, as they were in charge of first contacts with countless of new civilizations. New partnerships – as well as new enemies – were forged under the responsibility of the captain. In most cases, the results were acceptable. Yet in others, such as Starfleet’s first few run-ins with the Klingons, diplomacy was sorely lacking and thus led to years of tension and disagreement.

Sarek’s PADD suddenly alerted him of an incoming message.

> _At 1757 GT,the Vulcan Expunging Group approved the Articles of Association for reratification._
> 
> _Results: 82% voted approval; 18% vetoed._

“I am pleased to inform that Vulcan has voted to retain our partnership with the Federation.”

Captain Robau chuckled as he swiveled to Sarek. “That is very good to hear. From what I’ve been hearing these past few weeks, I was getting a bit concerned.”

“The likelihood of Vulcan rejecting the reratification was always slim.”

Robau grinned. “Hopefully, the festivities have already started. After a month with the Klingons, I need a good break.”

Sarek found that he also shared the human’s sentiments. His time away from Earth had been rather _eventful_ , to say the least. He thrived in the constant ever-changing dynamic of politics, yet even he can appreciate the cease in endless proceedings and debates. Then to be thrown into the throes of intergalactic tensions with the Klingons – Sarek, as Robau stated, could do with a good break.

Not to mention, Sarek had a dinner scheduled for tonight.

**1801 Galactic Time -** _**Level 83 of**_ ** _Federation Headquarters, Shi'Kahr, Vulcan_**

Aisha bounded into the laboratory and threw her arms around Amanda, who managed to catch the metal container that had jumped in her hands. Amanda barely had time to give Aisha an exasperated glare before the latter began shaking her in earnest.

“Amanda, come on! The others are waiting.”

Amanda laughed and then gingerly placed the container of _Aekiasn_ whisps on the lab bench. She waved her hand. “I’ll meet you guys there, I promise. We have to make sure that these guys are in stasis. And after this, I have to quickly stop by inventory. It’ll take fifteen minutes max.”

Aisha looked at her suspiciously. “You won’t bail right?”

“Would I actually bail on a _once-in-a-lifetime_ impromptu party to celebrate the continuation of the Vulcan-Federation relationship?” Amanda gasped dramatically. “ _Never_.”

Aisha grinned. “You’re damn right. It’s happening at the plaza outside, okay? Most of the other workers are already out there with drinks and music.”  
“Oh my god,” snorted Amanda, but she couldn’t help grin back as well. The news had come out just minutes ago, and the atmosphere had shot up through the roof. The boys had practically hooted their way out of the lab while singing a butchered version of the Federation anthem. “The Vulcans are going to regret this decision as soon as they see us rioting out there.”

“Nope. They’ll definitely be joining the party.” Aisha slapped Amanda’s butt and danced away as Amanda tried kicking her.

“I’ll see you down, alright?”

Amanda laughed, “I’ll see you!”

The doors shut closed behind Aisha, leaving Amanda alone in the lab. She quickly placed the last container of whisps in the stasis chamber and locked it.

Since their arrival, they had spent the all afternoon ensuring their laboratory equipment had a place to stay until their departure back to Earth. They planned on staying another two weeks in Shi’Kahr for purely vacation reasons. Amanda had already scheduled to meet with T’Pol and T’Pille, along with checking in on the Learning Center. They have been sending her updates every now and then even though she’d never asked. It was surprisingly courteous of them, and she found herself anxious to see the students as well.

Amanda stripped away her nitrile gloves, the snap of the latex startling in the now-empty lab. She was fairly certain she was alone on the whole floor – everyone had called it a day as soon as the news came out. Amanda walked over to the edge of the lab, where a whole pane of six-inch industrial grade glass encompassed a whole wall. She absentmindedly tossed the gloves in the trashcan as she looked at the people milling far below.

The Federation Headquarters was, like many of the skyrises in Vulcan, a true feat of architecture and physics. There were precisely one-hundred floors, and almost each were shaped as rings that allowed them to look through the center of the whole building. Windows on every level looked down below to a courtyard in the interior of the headquarters. On every twenty-fifth floor was a new courtyard, providing the levels above with a stunning view. From up here, Amanda could see an artificial waterfall flowing straight into the center of the indoor garden. It was busier than usual with huge crowds streaming towards the turbolifts to head down for the celebrations.

Behind the thick windows, Amanda could faintly hear the tumultuous crowd’s celebratory singing and cheers. She felt like a strange specter distant from all the sound and movement – an out of body feeling that made her inexplicably smile as she took in the atmosphere. 

She made to turn, well intent on joining the celebrations below, but something caught her eye. Or rather, someone.

Like water in a stream parting around a rock, the crowd meandered like a swirling tide around a still figure, who stood like a statue. Their silhouette was quite familiar. Amanda’s eyebrows furrowed imperceptibly, as she squinted down below in curiosity. 

Unlike those around him, the figure was looking up rather than ahead. When he turned, Amanda blinked as she recognized him. And as the only one at the window, she figured it was unsurprising that the person’s attention was drawn to her.

Boron and Amanda gazed at each other, both naturally drawn to the familiarity and stillness of the other. The mind was strange like that, Amanda vaguely thought. People take in so much information from their surroundings, yet somehow, the mind instinctively drowns out the inconsequential details and focuses on the important. This filtration happens so quickly and effortlessly – most noticeably in times of stress or danger.

Amanda slowly raised her hand. It was an instinctive greeting, one that he may not understand. She saw a flicker of orange on his neck, and she blinked, wondering if it was the light or the window that –

Suddenly, an ear-deafening _boom_ ricocheted throughout the whole building in a powerful wave. The ground beneath her violently shook, and Amanda fell against the glass wall.

Her hands flew out and cushioned her impact. Her PADD dropped to the ground with a mute thud. Everything sounded mute, she belatedly realized. The air itself felt like it was vibrating. Her body was seized as if bracing for an impact.

The whole building shuddered and then stilled. The lights flickered, and then the whole lab became drowned in red light.

For a microsecond, everything froze in silence. Amanda’s heart was beating harshly in her chest, and she herself felt paralyzed. Leaning against the window, she could see that all the people below had instinctively crouched – or simply fallen over. She could see a few of the natural leaders standing, yelling out words that were indecipherable from where she stood levels above.

Through it all, Boron did not appear to have moved a single inch. His gaze, which had shifted to observe the scene around him, met hers once more. Except now, tendrils of hot orange and red crept up on his skin like vines. It was as though pure energy and heat were running through his veins and –

An inexplicable feeling of dread and fear surged through her, and Amanda screamed, pounding mutely against the reinforced glass. She wasn’t the only one to notice, and there were figures lunging towards the Vulcan and throwing themselves on top of him but – 

Then, the second explosion happened.

**1805 Galactic Time – 13 minutes until structure failure**

“ _Code Red message received.”_

The change in the bridge’s atmosphere was immediate. Robau straightened as he turned to communications, his smile gone in a second. “Hassan, what is it?”

“Captain, Vulcan is issuing a red alert to nearby Starfleet vessels. The Confederacy is on the line.”

Sarek tensed and stepped forward as Robau ordered, “Put them on.”

A Vulcan appeared on the viewscreen. Sarek recognized her sleet grey uniform and Ministry of Security badge. Her lined face was strict, and she spoke firmly and quickly. “Captain Robau of _USS Kelvin_ , this is Security Directorate T’Rall of the Confederacy of Vulcan. At 1805 Galactic Time, the Federation Headquarters was attacked. Two high-powered bombs – type is still unknown – went off within ten seconds of each other. I am sending your crew schematics of the building.”

Sarek smoothly opened the file that was mass sent into the _Kelvin_ ’s database. The headquarters’ blueprint appeared with red flashing at certain areas of the building.

“The first bomb went off at the 25th floor – the second bomb at the 75th floor. Levels 19-24 and 68-83 have significant damage and likely contain no life. The building’s structural integrity is at 4%, and it would be collapsing right now. However, the headquarters’ emergency shield supports have been automatically implemented and are allowing the building to remain standing. The supports are at 68% power, and it is dropping by the second.”

Sarek received another file. This time of names.

“Most of the staff had left the building prior. However, PADD analysis show that 372 of staff were still within the headquarters during when the bombs went off. Scans show that only 218 lifeforms remain active – all are trapped with the destruction of the ground entrance. The main priority is to evacuate as many of these civilians as we can. It is now 1807. Analysis tells us we have only an estimated 11 minutes and 16 seconds until the supports fail and the building collapses.”

T’Ral continued, despite the shocked silence that had befallen the bridge. “The _USS Kelvin_ is to arrive at 1811, correct?”

“Correct.”

T’Ral nodded. “Security measures of the headquarters prevent direct teleportation in most levels of the building. Thus, use of the transporter is not possible for most civilians. However, the only places accessible by transport in and out of the building are the loading docks at levels 50 and 99, and the survivors inside have been informed to head to these locations if possible. We are asking the nearby _USS Kelvin_ and _USS Shenzhou_ to utilize your large teleportation capacity to beam these civilians on board as soon as you drop out of warp in two minutes.”

Sarek knew that even with the shuttles and the two starships, the probability of saving all 248 lifeforms within 10 minutes is extremely improbable.

Robau echoed his concerns. “Not all civilians might have access to a landing pad or even a window to exit from.”

Suddenly, a thought pierced through his mind, like a slow, curling vine. He moved almost robotically as he scrolled down the list.

“Yes,” agreed T’Ral without any change in tone or expression. “We have additional shuttles en route that will hover by every level of the building and allow trapped civilians to escape through windows. High casualty is expected, as there are lifeforms that are considered unable to reach either locations and are low priority.”

Sarek focused on a name.

> _Amanda Grayson_
> 
> _Human 1904762_
> 
> _PADD location: Laboratory 83.11_
> 
> _Status: Unknown. Inaccessible_

**1807 Galactic Time – 11 minutes until structure failure**

Alarms pierced through the silent building with a shrieking wail.

There was a nauseating pounding in her chest, and for a second, she couldn’t tell if it came from her heart or the building. The alarms did not help with the ringing in her ears. She pulled herself off of the floor and squinted beneath the bright red warning lights.

The window that she had stood at now could have been mistaken for a solid wall. A thick cloud of dust on the other side made it impossible to see through it clearly. All those people down there – Amanda couldn’t see them, not through this.

A wave of revulsion swept through her, and she didn’t know if it was from the ringing or the thought of what was out there.

Amanda staggered to the lab’s automatic doors, but they didn’t slide open like they should’ve. She reached out to push them, but a blue shield rippled beneath her hands and prevented her from even coming an inch near the surface.

She forced herself to take a deep breath as she moved to the door’s control pad on the wall and read the screen.

_Emergency Threat Protocol implemented. Laboratory lockdowns initiated._

Fuck.

Amanda has gone to enough Federation trainings to know that Emergency Threat Protocol was the only implemented during security threats to the building. In such events, high priority level 5 laboratories, such as the one she was currently in, were locked down to prevent anyone from entering and stealing sensitive materials or research during an attack.

Which meant she was stuck in here with no way out.

**1808 Galactic Time – 10 minutes until structure failure**

If a Vulcan – _any_ Vulcan – was there with Sarek, they would accuse him of being concerningly unbalanced. Illogical. Perhaps even insane.

Yet he did not believe he had ever thought as clearly and quickly as he did in those two minutes.

Level 83 was _likely_ to contain no lifeforms, according to T’Ral. Yet Level 83 was full of research laboratories – each meant to ensure any accidents or disasters would not affect outside their walls. They were designed to contain any explosions and, logically, to keep explosions out.

Sarek strode into the closest transporter room as its operators scrambled to prep the ship for the arrival of likely dozens of civilians.

“Where is the chief?”

“Aye, that’s me,” shouted a stocky, graying human female. She was in the midst of inputting calculations. “Chief Operator Kane.”

“As soon as we drop out of warp, you will transport me to Ambassador’s office in the Federation Headquarters.”

The woman scoffed, and Sarek stifled his flash of irritation. “The orders are clear, Pointy. Besides, there is no way to access anywhere in the building other than the loading docks.”

“Incorrect," he stated, a tad bit forceful. "The ambassador's office contains a private transporter. As Vulcan’s Ambassador to Earth, I have the access code to these transporters.”

“Well, _Ambassador_ , every second spent not transporting civilians is a second of lives not being saved.”

“The coordinates will be inputted beforehand, and as soon as we drop out of warp, the amount of time it takes for you to transport me is miniscule. I intend to save a life.”

Kane glared at him. “As soon as we land in Vulcan at 1811 GT – which is in _two minutes_ , I cannot guarantee that I’d be able to pick you up again, son. You understand?”

He nodded and input the access code into one of the stations. “I believe with a homing beacon the chances should be improved significantly.”

Kane tossed said device in his hands, along with a communicator. “You’ll be needing this as well.”

He moved to the transporter.

Suddenly, Sarek paused and spoke measuredly, “You understand, that in the last minutes, must you choose between us or civilians, you will put the needs of the many before the few.”

Kane studied him, until she finally nodded. “That’s the plan, son.”

Robau’s voice reverberated throughout the _USS Kelvin_ from the coms system. _“Prepare for drop out of warp. Arriving at Vulcan in 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… ”_

His hand flexed.

_“1…”_

“Energize.”

**1808 Galactic time – 10 minutes until structure failure**

The building groaned again, and she momentarily fancied herself as being underwater. A submarine would be nice, Amanda thought bitterly. Like she was on some ocean adventure – not in a very tall deathtrap.

She hissed as the doors’ control panel sparked at her menacingly as she cut one of the wires. Her time with Joran and Havin had managed to pass on _some_ knowledge about electrical systems. That included recognizing the power line and other necessary components. But clearly, whatever she cut was not the power line.

Squashing down her stress and frustration, Amanda did the next logical thing – cut the wire next to it.

It certainly seemed to do _something_. The panel’s screen flickered briefly before shutting down. The green light at its top disappeared as well. Then, the blue shields winked and vanished, and she tentatively reached and was able to touch the doors’ smooth metal surface.

But of course, after attempting to budge them open, the doors remained shut.

Within sixteen seconds, Amanda lugged over every mechanical engineer’s favorite tool: an industrial-grade electro-plasma emitter – in other words, a very big machine that can cut through metal. The red button and largest knob on the machine’s surface were pretty self-explanatory. All of the other buttons and dials – well, not so much. She cranked the knob to 80% power and turned it on.

Immediately, Amanda could feel the humming in the hose. She yanked on it so that she stood a yard away with the emitter in her hands. Stealing herself, she pointed the emitter directly at the door with both hands and then squeezed the handle.

The force at which the plasma came out nearly knocked her over. Huffing, Amanda fought against the power of the beam and slowly aimed the hose.

Within a minute, she managed to cut a sizeable rectangle. Before the melted metal could cool and harden, she kicked the slab until it fell outward with a large boom.

As if in response, the headquarters began to shift once more. It felt like a small earthquake that lasted only seconds. Breathless, she clung against the wall. The ground rumbled beneath her and then stilled.

Amanda immediately ran out, but her steps faltered. The once sterile white hall was filled with suffocating dust and smoke. She began coughing and felt the chalky air enter her lungs as she squatted to the ground. Beneath her feet were thin shards of glass that crunched as she shifted. The glass likely came from the end of the hall, where there was a door to the decks that oversaw the courtyard. She squinted to her right and knew with a sinking feeling that if she were to run down there blindly, she’d fall freely into the open air and down to the now-destroyed courtyard below.

Red lights flashed briefly from the ceiling, but it did little to offer her a clear view of more than three feet. An AI system was speaking over the coms.

“ _Eva- evacuate to nearest loading deck. If un- unable, please head to any deck or window. Avoid use of turbolifts.”_

The closest loading dock was at level 99. From how the building was shaking more and more often, Amanda decided there was not enough time to make it all the way up there using the stairs. However, the highest observation deck in the building was on level 85 – just two floors above. If there was anywhere to go, it would be there.

**1812 Galactic Time – 6 minutes until structure failure**

As soon as Sarek stepped off of the transporter, he quickly glanced around the empty Federation Ambassador’s office. Like Sarek did in the Vulcan Embassy on Earth, Ambassador T’Mir had a personal transporter in her office for convenience. Unlike the _USS Kelvin_ , this transporter had clearance to access anywhere in the building.

It took only seconds for him to input the location for Lab 83-11 in the transporter’s systems. It took even less to press the button and find himself in the laboratory.

For precisely one second, Sarek stared at the gaping rectangle in the metal industrial grade doors. The metal at the edges still glowed faintly from heat. He did not factor in the possibility that Amanda would attempt to circumvent Federation security, especially so swiftly. Part of his brain recognized this should be addressed for future considerations in security planning; the rest extrapolated her likely choice in finding an exit.

Research levels contained no window access to the outside for security, so that ruled out this level as well as the 84th. Anything below was destroyed. Level 85, however, was quite logical.

As Sarek ran towards the stairs, he flipped open the communication’s device. “Chief Operator, are you present?”

_“Yes, son. I’m here.”_

“Requesting status report on civilian transport.”

 _“With the help of_ USS Shenzhou _, we are almost in the clear. Shuttles have also managed to get most of stranded civilians and are retreating. When are you planning on heading back up to the transports?”_

“The turbolifts’ emergency power has failed. We will be unable to arrive to transports in time. However, I do have another proposal.”

He reached Level 85 and quickly spoke in a concise manner about his plan. With an error margin of 39%, he believed his plan to be worth doing and not completely improbable

This Chief Kane seemed to disagree. Quite adamantly, in fact. _“What you’re asking for has only been done has a 16% success rate.”_

“Factoring in Vulcan’s gravitational acceleration, our exact starting location, and the homing signal, I would say our chances of success would be greater. I will alert you when we are ready.”

“ _Fu- ”_

Sarek snapped the communicator shut.

**1814 Galactic Time – 4 minutes until structure failure**

As soon as Amanda burst through the doors to the outside, she blanched.

The observation deck on level 85 offered one of the highest views in Shi’Kahr. From up here, Amanda could see the neighboring Hall of Ministry, the United Earth Embassy, and even the L’langon Mountain Range in the far horizon. In the late afternoon sky, the Eridani still shone dizzyingly bright.

The east side of the building, however, was completely enveloped in smoke. She coughed as she moved to the west side of the deck where the air was considerably clearer. In the sky, she could clearly see retreating shuttles, alone with two hovering Starfleet ships. She had never seen one so up close, much less two. The atmosphere was further made chaotic by the audible blaring of the inside’s coms system, sirens wailing from every corner of Shi’Kahr, and the grating sound of shifting metal.

She could only watch in awe as emergency protocol was playing in full force – not just for the Headquarters, but for the whole city. Every building’s roof, edges, and windows in Shi’Kahr were lined with lights that were fully illuminating. The closest buildings to the headquarters glowed hot, neon red and slowly faded on and off. As she looked farther away, the red faded to orange to yellow to white – each color allowing civilians on the ground to know where to stay away from. It was a rippling sea of light and color.

The building groaned once more, and the rumble came back – stronger this time. When she was inside, Amanda was able to ignore it. But now, she was outside and very, very high above the ground. She irrationally held her breath as she flattened herself against the windows by the door.

The wind whipped through her clothes and hair, as if trying to tug her to the edge. She shut her eyes and breathed deeply, as she attempted to rein in her nausea. This was very not okay, she thought. Stricken, she stayed as far away from the edge as possible, as she forced herself to just _think_ and breathe.

Suddenly, there was a _bang,_ but it was like the sound of a door slamming open and –

“Amanda.”

“Shit,” she managed as she cracked her eyes open.

Lo and behold, Sarek stood a couple feet away with a device in his hand.

For a second, she thought she imagined him. He appeared too still – too unnatural – to be here among such chaos. But he looked very much as real and solid as she remembered, except even he looked a shade paler.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Amanda cried out, almost indignantly. Her back was pressed against the glass windows, her hands clenched against her chest.

He carefully crossed half of the deck and gazed out analytically. Then he turned to her. “The building structural integrity is critical. It will collapse in four minutes.”

Without looking away from her aghast expression, Sarek flipped open his communicator’s device. Amanda could hardly make sense of his words as he shouted over the noise, “Chief Operator, expect an approximate mass of an estimated 133 kilograms. Current location is on the eighty-fifth floor’s observation decks. Estimated drop will be one meter away from the deck’s edge. Turning homing beacon on. Alert me when prepared.”

Sarek cautiously took a step towards her. “Amanda, we must go.”

“ _Where exactly_?”

Urgency strained his typically levelled voice. “We must jump. The _USS Kelvin_ will beam us up.”

After not speaking to him these past two months, she didn’t expect him to be so direct.

Amanda vaguely remembered visiting the Grand Canyon with her dad when she was twelve years old. There was a skywalk, not unlike this deck, that jutted out and hung over a cliff. The glass ground was clear, revealing the 800-foot drop below. Even then, she had a spell of vertigo. When she had looked down through the glass, the ground had shifted. Her body had seized, her limbs had turned weak, and she had hardly been able to see.

That was happening to her now, just at the prospect of his words. A drop off of a one-hundred story building was much greater than one at the Grand Canyon. Already, her body began to shake, and her breathing became erratic. She shut her eyes again, as she forced herself to breathe.

Amanda vaguely made out that Sarek sounded closer when he spoke. His tone was considerably more gentle, quiet than before.

“Amanda, please.”

When she opened her eyes, she saw that he was extending out both of his hands.

She weakly shook her head. “This is absolute madness.”

“I am asking you to trust me, like I had trusted you.”

_She was bleeding. Her hands were trembling with fatigue and coated in blood –_ their _blood, a clashing mix of green and red, his and hers._

_He had a chunk of metal in his chest and was barely conscious. She could see him struggling to open his eyes. She had thought him an idiot, and she still did, in fact._

_“I have full faith in your capabilities,” he said._

_“I thought Vulcans don’t lie.”_

_“I am not lying.”_

The burning world became muted when her hands slipped into his.

Unexpectedly, Sarek tugged her hands, and Amanda easily tumbled into his arms. She shut her eyes and burrowed her face into his chest. Their fingers laced together in a natural movement. No longer did she pay attention to the sirens or the gusts of wind. Already, she could feel him seeping into her. It was almost sedating, how good it felt. Like a cool breath against flushed skin. Yet even his control and calm were not enough to outweigh her instinctive, overwhelming sense of fear.

So when he took a step backwards – a step closer to the edge – a violent flash of heat spread in her body, and she resisted moving with him.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she gasped, letting go of his hands. “I really don’t think I can.”

This time, Sarek had no indication of being stressed or frustrated. Instead, he stepped back to his original place right in front of her and wrapped his arms around her again. She mutely closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his torso to return this strange embrace. Her cheek pressed against his chest, she felt one of his hands at the small of her back.

His other hand gently found one of hers, and he pressed their joined hands against his chest, ensuring a steady stream of peace into her. And suddenly, he began to spin.

“Keep your eyes closed, Amanda."

Step by step, they twirled in a slow circle. She lost sense of direction as they rocked back and forth. Their shadows casted on the ground as the Eridani star washed them in warmth.

For a moment, in the silence of their bubble, it was as if they were dancing.

**1816 Galactic Time – 2 minutes until structure failure**

Step by step, Sarek began to spin gently towards the deck’s outer handrails. His hand joined with hers, he felt her pulse gradually begin to slow. He felt the rise of her chest slow down as well as she caught her breath. Even her shaking began to subside in his arms. His thumb rubbed against the back of her hand soothingly, her fingers curled over his.

He managed to block most of her fear from unsettling his own state, while also projecting himself to allow her to draw calm from him.

Amanda spoke softly, if not a little higher pitched than usual. “This is impossible.”

He matched her gentle tone. “On the contrary, I estimate there is a 28% chance of success, which is quite high in the context of our situation. In fact, I find our chances are more favorable than Daedalus and Icarus.”

“Well, one did _die_.”

Once they reached the handrail, he admonished, “Please refrain from opening your eyes.”

He gently untangled the two of them. She seemed to sense from the increase in wind velocity that they were near the edge, and her breathing began to elevate.

Sarek swiftly jumped over the handrail and landed on the force shields on the other side.

Before Amanda could become more agitated, he reached across and grabbed her hands, slowly pulling her towards him. When her hips hit the handrail, she gasped, “ _Sarek_.”

He wordlessly placed her hands on the tops of his shoulders, and then put his hands around her waist.

“Jump up onto the rail in 3, 2, _1.”_

Amanda yelped as she followed his order. He guided her meanwhile to ensure she landed sitting on the handrail.

“Now swing your legs around.”

He felt her hands tighten on his shoulders as she did so, allowing them to face each other.

Now eyelevel, he inspected her pale face. Her eyes remained shut and strands of her covered her face. Her brunette hair blew in the wind and lightly brushed against his cheeks.

_A memory flashed in his mind. He saw it with vivid detail – her sitting on the rail and him beside her. She was anxious – her concern with the knowledge of a break-in in the Learning Center was evident. Acceptable, he had thought._

_And instead of a smoky orange sky, there was a smattering of stars against black. Instead of Amanda coated in dust, she wore a midnight blue gown. Instead of wailing sirens in the background, there was a song._

Sarek pulled out the homing beacon and turned it on before opening his communication device.

“Chief Operator.”

_“Son, if you’re going to do it, it is almost time. I’ll count off when to jump.”_

Sarek grabbed the handrail besides Amanda with hand, while the other remained at her waist.

“Amanda, come down.”

She slipped off the arm rail and landed directly in front of him on the force fields. She yelped as she hit against his chest, but his hand on the rail steadied them.

“You know you lied, right?”

Sarek guided her arms around him and wrapped an arm around her as well, as he considered her words. “I am unaware of the context.”  
“At the gala – on the balcony, you said we wouldn’t do this ever again.”

Her accusatory tone had a sharpness that he did not expect. Now, of all times, he could not hide the amusement in his words.

“On the contrary, I had answered I did not foresee we would have to. Technically, that was not a lie. Furthermore, I believe it was your idea to leap from a great height to rid of your fear.”

_The warp field outside the_ Soval _passenger shuttle bathed her in its blue light. Hours away from landing on Vulcan, he had only seen her once before during their meeting on Earth. At the time, he didn’t understand how she was looking at him, but now, upon reflection, he knew she was in disbelief. A bit amused, intrigued. Strange, how he often still struggled with acknowledging his own emotions, but when it came to identifying hers, it was easy. Well, he corrected,_ easier. 

_“_ _I suppose next time,” she had said with humor, “I’ll just jump out of a tall building and get my fear out of the way.”_

_And then she was laughing, as though he was a friend. But that would be illogical, he had thought. He hardly knew her and now -_

Sarek let go of the rail, and lightly spun them to the edge of the shields.

_“7… 6… 5… 4… ”_

He could feel the beat of her heart against his chest. Her laugh was airy, but he could hear the unsteadiness. “Why is it always us?”

_“3… 2…”_

“I’ll answer your query shortly. Hold on, Amanda.”

“ _1”_

Sarek tightened his arms around Amanda and, for the both of them, stepped off.

In the weightless fall, it was only her that grounded him.

**1818 Galactic Time – Federation Headquarters has fallen**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: explosion, violence
> 
> Hope everyone is safe and well <3


	15. The Kubler-Ross Grief Model

One of the most intriguing things she had ever learned in the span of her teaching career was that Andorians actually had a word to describe the feeling of falling.

“ _Aolaeryn”_ translates literally to ‘abandoned soul.’ Her Andorian student had explained that his people inhabited a moon with a gravity much weaker than most worlds. Thus, when they first visited an alien planet centuries ago and experienced the feeling of falling, they thought their soul had passed on to the afterlife.

Amanda could still hear the deafening roar of wind flying past her, and she finally, _really_ understood the meaning of _aolaeryn_.

Even when she vaguely realized that the world wasn’t spinning around her anymore and that there was an actual metal floor beneath her, her body still believed she was falling. Her head rushed with blood, and her heart was beating too fast for her lungs to keep up. It was as though a piece of rope was tied around her chest and somebody just pulled on it as hard as they could, constricting her lungs until they struggled to breathe.

It wasn’t until Amanda felt a faint surge of _something_ emitting from her wrist, past her heart, and to her mind did she have enough clarity to realize her eyes were closed.

Sarek managed to somewhat untangle the two of them. Even with her eyes open, she couldn’t have been able to tell if they were sitting, standing, or lying down. She dimly watched his mouth move as he spoke to her, but she could not hear him. It was as if all the sound in the universe got sucked into a vacuum, leaving behind the sound of rushing blood.

Maybe this was it – her soul did just fly out of her body to leave behind a dumbstruck shell of her.

The surge didn’t go away, and she realized he was holding her wrist – likely to sense what the hell was the matter with her. And with faint horror, she realized she was about to vomit on him.

“Medbay,” she gasped out.

Sarek seemed to have felt her nausea before she even finished speaking. Within a blink of an eye, they were beamed away.

The icy flash that accompanied transport somewhat helped with her nausea. As soon as she felt the medbay’s cool white tiles beneath her, she pulled her legs to her chest and rested her forehead on the top of her knees. 

Amanda could faintly hear Sarek speaking to another man.

Suddenly, a sharp sting on her neck jolted her, accompanied by the hiss of a hypospray. Whatever they injected began to work immediately. She could feel a cool tingling spread throughout her limbs as they relaxed. Sound slowly came back to her. Her body’s tense state slowly seeped away as the sedatives took effect.

An unknown male’s voice interrupted her trail of thoughts. “Dr. Grayson. Can you hear me?”

She nodded, head still bowed and on her knees. A heavy weight settled on her shoulders – an emergency blanket.

“Very good. Dr. Grayson, you are currently in the _USS Kelvin_ ’s medbay. You are in shock, so I administered 5 ccs of a diphenylmethane sedative. Would you like to receive more and be put to sleep now?”

She shook her head.

“Alright, when you can, can you lift your head up?”

Amanda counted to five, and then lifted her head. She was sitting on the floor against the wall, where she was able to numbly take in all of the chaos around her.

The medbay was overcrowded. There were other humans being treated – most seemed to be in shock like her, but there were others on the beds with severe burn wounds. Nurses, doctors, and even non-medical Starfleet officials ran around in an urgent, yet controlled manner that would only be possible after years of experience in the forefront of space.

Amanda turned her head to see Sarek crouched beside her. With a clearer mind, she would’ve probably reacted to how close he was. His almost black eyes were also scanning her face, and she realized he was still gripping her wrist. Her awareness seemed to satisfy him, and he lightly placed her hand back down.

The blond man who had been speaking to her was scanning her head with a tricorder device. When his warm blue eyes met hers, he smiled kindly at her. “I’m George. Let me know if you need anything.” He turned to Sarek. “She has no head injuries. She should be fine.”

Sarek nodded as George departed, and his gaze struck right into hers. “I must speak with the captain. Stay here until I return.”

He made to stand, but she suddenly grabbed his clothed arm.

“I have to go back down. Back to the Embassy.” Her throat felt sore and scratchy, and her voice came out hoarse. She didn’t remember screaming as they fell. “My friends – they left before the explosions. I have to check on them.”

Sarek frowned and put a hand on her shoulder to prevent her from rising. “That is unwarranted. The city is on lockdown.”

“I don’t care.”

“I will check the database for your friends’ status, and then I will return.”

It was not posed as a question, but Amanda eventually slowly nodded.

“Stay here,” he emphasized before striding away.

The sedative was already screwing up with her mind. It numbed all feeling, both mental and physical. She felt almost weightless, and it would be easy to slip across the fine line that separated consciousness and unconsciousness.

Yet Amanda fought against the drowsiness and attempted to straighten her jumbled thoughts.

She had no idea how long it has been since the attack. The ship, however, wasn’t in red alert and seemed to be in stasis. Were they still in Vulcan’s atmosphere or have they landed? Perhaps, she could just ask any of those around her. But the idea of just talking to someone drained her.

More importantly, where were her friends?

Amanda feebly replayed the events preceding the explosions. The boys had left first, and then Aisha. Was it ten minutes after that Amanda tried to leave the lab? Even five minutes would’ve been enough time for Aisha to get down using the turbo lift.

Amanda’s concept of time was very loose, and she didn’t even know how long since Sarek had left. Eventually, she braced herself against the wall as she struggled to her feet. The heavy wool blanket fell from her shoulders, and she didn’t bother to even pick it up. Weaving through the hurried movements of Starfleet personnel, Amanda easily slipped out of the medbay.

She walked rather steadily – enough to pass by with only a few brief glances. Everyone was rushing to somewhere it seemed. Any other time, she would’ve been in awe for setting foot in her first Starfleet ship, but now, she only felt impatience.

Amanda considered the teleport rooms, but she knew she lacked any sort of status or knowledge to beam her anywhere on the planet. All she really needed was a computer.

Every couple of meters had a computer system embedded in the curving hall’s sides. However, the halls were rather full of officials who would likely stop tracks if they see a civilian at the computer.

But as she reached the back of the ship where signs began to point towards the engine rooms, the amount of people began to grow sparse. Eventually, she found herself alone in front of a computer.

Accustomed to Federation software from her own time in research, she managed to navigate through the program. It was quite easy since during a red alert, information is automatically issued to every software on the ship to ensure everyone has access. Hacking into their systems was likely a Federation offense, but she found she frankly didn't care.

She began to read the file which contained general details. Two bombs at the bottom and middle of the headquarters. Went off at 1805 GT – collapsed at 1818 GT. All of that happened in the span of thirteen minutes?

> _178 lifeforms accounted for_
> 
> _134 lifeforms status unknown, assumed dead_

Amanda’s hand curled on the display. Nausea rolled back up her chest.

She swallowed and forced herself to click on the accounted for file. She easily found her name, and she began to scroll further down.

“Amanda.” The disapproval in Sarek’s tone was clear, but she ignored him.

A firm hand on her shoulder pushed her away, and suddenly, Sarek stood in between her and the computer.

The sedative countered any flash of anger she felt, and she sounded more tired than upset. “I just… need to know.”

Sarek studied her, and she stared back.

“Come with me.”

His hand rested on the small of her back as he guided her down the winding halls. It was getting harder to fight against sleep, and she was surprised she managed to even walk by herself.

As they reached the living quarters area of the ship, she wondered how Sarek knew his way around so well. There were too many twists and turns that looked all too much alike, yet he maneuvered the halls easily and eventually guided them to a specific room. It was when Sarek input his own security code into the door panel that she realized that this living quarter was _his_.

It was modest and sparse. There was a moderately-sized bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and a door to a private lavatory. The only personal items she could see were some books neatly stacked on the desk as well as unlit candles lined around the room.

A horizontal strip of a window was above the desk and offered the only source of light. She walked over and stared out over Shi’Kahr’s skyline. The ship did not appear to have moved since she had saw the ship on the headquarters’ balcony, and so she could clearly see what remained of the Federation building.

The skyscraper had completely tipped over. Perhaps for the better, it fell towards the plaza rather than any of the taller buildings around it. Since the two bombs essentially broke the building into three sections, it also prevented the building from falling with its full one hundred- stories height. Otherwise, it would’ve spanned the whole plaza and further knocked more buildings down. All in all, it could’ve been worse than this.

But this didn’t register with her. In fact, Amanda hardly felt anything at all. She numbly stared at the still-smoking mountains of rubble. Drones flew over the wreckage, its red laser scans looking for any possible sign of life.

“Amanda, please sit.”

She turned to see Sarek by the door. For the first time since she’s seen him, she really took him in. 

He wasn’t wearing his typical Vulcan robes. Instead, his clothing was similar to Starfleet’s simple and utilitarian style – dark blue trousers, a button-up undershirt, and a coat.

Reluctantly, she sat on the edge of his bed, her arms wrapped around her torso. Carefully, he sat beside her.

“Can you check?” she asked.

He was dressed like a human. But it was his expression that she really didn’t recognize. Away from the officers and personnel, he sat with an almost imperceptible stoop in his shoulders. It was as though Sarek was preparing for another explosive to go off.

Before he even began speaking, Amanda buried her head in her hands.

“They have not been found.”

* * *

Night had long fallen over the eerily silent city of Shi’Kahr when Sarek and Amanda were beamed at the grand steps leading to D’H’riset. The Delta Veda shown brighter than the moon and took up a large part of the sky. It bathed the world in its bright glow, thus illuminating the scarlet trees surrounding the estate along with Sarek’s home.

When Sarek had originally requested she stay at his estate, she simply nodded. Amanda refused to allow herself to think of the now empty apartment waiting for her. If she had to go back and see Aisha’s empty bedroom, she simply did not think she could bare it.

Step by step, Amanda walked up the stairs. Sarek trailed her, no doubt waiting for her to collapse. Or scream. Or cry.

She should be crying, Amanda thought.

But she just felt numb. Tired.

Their footsteps echoed around the silent home as they ascended the spiral staircase. Sarek wordlessly led her to the second highest floor – the third floor. The halls curved as well, and there were only a few doors.

Sarek slid one open and allowed her to walk in.

The guest room was larger than her living room back in San Francisco. There was a large bed on a platform and a seating area in front of it, which consisted of a low square table and floor cushions around it. On the opposite side of the room, large windowpanes spanned from the floor to the ceiling.

Amanda pressed a button on a control panel near the entrance. Suddenly, each pane spun on a central vertical axis and opened to a balcony and the cool night air. She slowly walked to the middle of the room and stood there, as if in a trance.

She didn’t realize Sarek had even left until she turned at his voice and saw him place a bundle on the table.

“These clothing should be sufficient, should you wish to exchange your clothes for something more comfortable.”

Sarek seemed to notice her exhaustion. His voice was quiet as he stopped in front of her, a foot of space in between. “I am being called to the High Command to assist in the aftermath. I will likely be gone all night and am not aware when exactly I will be able to return. But the whole house is yours to explore. There is a replicator in the kitchen. I ask you to not leave the estate and simply rest.”

Amanda nodded, her eyelids getting heavier.

By the time she heard the door close behind him, she had already fallen in the bed and closed her eyes.

* * *

The first night, Amanda drifted in and out of a blissfully dreamless sleep. It felt like a weight rested on her body and made her limbs feel like lead. Every time her eyes fluttered open, they’d inevitably shut again. It was just easier to not move.

It wasn’t until the morning that she first opened her eyes. Face buried in a pillow, she turned her head to the other side so that her cheek rested against the cushion. Now facing the door, she dully was aware that something was speaking to her.

_“Amanda Grayson. It is time for first meal.”_

Clearly, Sarek was quick to add her to the housing program. From the control panel by the door, the house’s system repeated that to her four more times before she flatly ordered, “Computer, turn off speaking and reminders until I say otherwise.”

“ _Granted_.”

Amanda promptly fell back asleep.

By the time she finally awakened, it was early evening. She watched as the light slowly grew dimmer and dimmer across the high ceilings. It was only the ache in her stomach that made her finally get up.

The Eridani sun was still faintly out when she reached downstairs. The kitchen was separated from the main area of the house with double wooden doors. She slid them open and took in the starlit room. Windows practically covered the half of the room. Every room in the estate, she noticed, had at least one whole wall of just windows – allowing the house to be incredibly and beautifully well lit.

The replicator was embedded in the wall. Although hungry, she had no appetite for anything in specific. She simply pressed the ‘last’ button and then ‘go.’

Apparently, the last meal Sarek had using the replicator was a kind of soup. It was bitter but with a hint of an unexpected sweetness. It was rather pleasant, but she only managed to eat half of it or before pushing it away.

It was dark out by the time she finished eating. She wasn’t tired, but she lacked energy to do anything. Amanda also just simply didn’t _want_ to do anything.

As a psychologist, Amanda bluntly analyzed her own mindsight. She went through a traumatic experience and was still dealing with the turmoil. Furthermore, she was grieving, in her own way.

The Kubler-Ross Grief Model said there were five emotions that a person undergoes after a loss of a loved one: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

Amanda, like many in her field, considered this model to be rather outdated, or at least, misunderstood. Many interpreted the model too literally. People tended to believe the grief process was linear: stage after stage after stage. Rather, these are simply emotions to expect, and a person may not undergo through it all. The degree and kind of grief varies for each person and situation – and it hardly comes in a neat, packaged little box as the model suggests.

In a matter-of-fact way, she stared at the grain of the table as she went through each emotion.

Amanda thought herself self-aware enough to strike out denial. Perhaps, she was in denial on the ship, where she blocked out the fact that her friends had entered the lift just minutes before the bombs went off.

Amanda certainly accepted that they were dead. She listed out their names in her head: Titus, Fasa, Joran, Halvin, Aisha.

Bargaining? No. There was no way around this.

That just left anger and depression.

She had no fire in her to even think of the former, so she placed her current state in the latter.

She knew that the longer it takes for her to overcome this grief, the more difficult it is to transition back to normal life. Amanda has had students who struggled dealing with grief – their responses varied from bursts of anger to social isolation. No matter which response they gave, she walked them through the process with her hand in theirs. But right now, she was alone.

Amanda wanted to react. When Sarek informed her back on the starship, she had simply sat there. Even she was surprised by her lack of response. All of that worry and fear that drove her to find a computer just evaporated. It was almost, she forced herself to admit, like a weight had lifted off of her shoulders.

That thought made her guilty. Those frantic emotions had left, leaving her numb and free. Maybe this is why Vulcans decided to rein and repress their own emotions. They carried no burden that came with feelings. It left them with clarity – just like how she felt now as she psychoanalyzed herself.

Inwardly, Amanda sighed. This is not healthy.

Amanda carefully washed and dried her dishes by hand and then put them away.

After sleeping for over twelve hours, Amanda found that she was not yet tired enough to go back to sleep. But she had not the vaguest idea on what to do now. From her time in Vulcan, she found that Vulcans mainly do two things: work and meditate. As she was not able to or inclined to do either, that did not leave her with many options. Even if she wanted to, there was no way to leave. They were at the outskirts of the city, and she wasn’t aware of any neighbors for miles. It was too dark out to go on a walk.

What did Sarek say?

_The whole house is yours to explore._

Not left with many choices, she did exactly that.

From what she could tell, his multileveled home has very few straight walls. The outer walls were made of vertical panes of glass that stretched from the floor to the ground and outlined with wood. This along with the floors, and high ceilings were made from the same kind of russet-colored wood.

The ground floor had a kitchen, a formal eating room, and the main room. There was little furniture, but paintings and sculptures were minimally spread out in along the walls.

On the second floor, she found the meditation room Sarek had performed his instrument in. There was another large bedroom. Long shelves spanned one wall and were filled with Vulcan educational devices, which she recognized from her time in the Learning Center. As she touched one, she wondered were these Sarek’s or Sybok’s?

The third floor was where her room was located. There was another meditation room and what looked like a training room – Vulcan weapons lined one wall completely. There was also a small library, which surprised her. She had assumed Vulcans cared little for bound books – very few were made nowadays in their virtual-reliant universe, even on Earth. Amanda had a bookshelf at home of books she had collected ever since she was a child. But _this_ was certainly more than a bookshelf. Books lined all the walls from floor to ceiling. Most were in Vulcan, and she was able to recognize some of the phrases from her practice in Shanai’Kahr. Perhaps if she had the time, she could find a book to read for later.

She climbed up the spiral stairs to the fourth floor. Immediately, she noticed the hall’s outer walls and ceiling were entirely comprised of windows, revealing the Vulcan Forge and the night’s sky. There were two doors on the wooden side of the hall. For the first one, she opened the door, peered in, and promptly closed it. Entering Sarek’s private bedroom felt too strange.

When Amanda opened the next door, she stood for a moment in awe.

Artifacts and family heirlooms from countless generations filled the room. Books, clothing, instruments, vases, pottery – all the items that could represent Vulcan culture. The only source of light came from the roof’s window that covered the whole ceiling and revealed the night’s twinkling stars. When she cautiously took a step in, the shelves that lined the whole room softly glowed with light.

Her hand stroked the impossibly soft fabric of a traditional cloak. Amanda’s never seen anything like it – even during her time on Vulcan. She could tell by the yellowing of the lace that this is _old_. As her hands ran through the other garments, and Amanda could see how the style grew more modern and recognizable as she went down generations of clothing.

She found a book with pages so dry and crisp that she was afraid to even pick it up, and the handwriting on the cover was an earlier form of the current Vulcan language. But she even she could recognize it says _The Teachings of Surak._ This must have been one of the oldest copies ever made.

Hours passed as she slowly made her way through the large room. It was the only one in the house that was actually cluttered with items, and each object she found seemed more priceless than the last.

In the end, Amanda found herself in front of beautiful jewelry – there was gold, silver, gems, and other material she didn’t even recognize. But there was one necklace in particular that caught her eye.

The stone was small and dainty, and carved beautifully into a slender diamond shape. It glowed beneath the room’s faint light.

She remembered sitting in the S’chn T’gai’s crypt with T’Lara, and how the necklace pulsed with all the katra stones.

The wave of sadness hit suddenly. Fearing the prospect of confronting her grief, she struggled to contain it.

T’Lara’s words echoed in her mind. _“To thrive in our world, you must learn to set your feelings aside.”_

Amanda recognized she shouldn’t keep her emotions bottled up. But – hell – if a whole species can do it, why can’t she? 

Eridani’s light began to creep over the horizon. Rather than take in the beautiful and soft sunrise, she found herself in her room. Without preamble, Amanda stripped off her clothing – the same ones she wore during the explosion – and tumbled into bed.

* * *

The next day followed a similar pattern. Amanda had slept through the day, again.

She rolled over onto her back and turned her head to see the night sky.

“Computer.”

_“Yes, Amanda Grayson?”_

“Is Sarek back?”

“ _Osu Sarek has not returned since his departure 33 standard hours ago. But a visitor came approximately seven hours ago at 1304 Galactic Time and left a message.”_

Anxiousness and dread seeped into her heart, but she blocked it out as she asked, “Who?”

_"Playing message.”_

Suddenly, T’Pille’s monotonous voice spoke over the computer system. _“Amanda, the housing system has informed me you are asleep. Ambassador Sarek has informed me of your stay at his residence and gave me access to enter. I have left food for you in the kitchen, and I urge you to eat. Furthermore, the Ambassador requests that you turn on housing reminders.”_

Amanda resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

After throwing on some of the clothing Sarek had left, Amanda padded downstairs to the kitchen.

T’Pille had left a large amount of rice, cooked vegetables, and soup. There were even jumbo scallops. She realized Sarek must have informed T’Pille of her preference for them.

Suddenly ravenous, Amanda gracelessly scarfed down the food. She had barely eaten during the past 33 hours. Her body lacked energy and felt uncomfortably weightless, like she was in the middle of a drop. That feeling had never fully gone away.

“Computer, is there a television screen anywhere?”

“ _There is a screen in your bedroom. Would you prefer to use it?”_

“Yes. Please play a news channel.”

The news was being projected onto a blank wall in her room. She sat at one of the few floor cushions as she listened.

From what Amanda can tell, the bombers were only two Vulcan Logic Extremists based on footage just seconds before the explosions occurred. They had injected nanoexplosives into their bloodstream – allowing the explosive to react with the copper and oxygen in their bodies. 

She felt a chill as she saw the familiar face of one of the attackers on screen.

The news made a brief mention that they had left a detailed dissertation-styled essay of their reasons for the attack – to protest the passing of the Articles of Association, which was announced only minutes before the explosions. To protest the dilution of the Vulcan culture, and human’s role in corrupting it. To encourage others to protect their way of life. Amanda made a mental note to find this paper later.

The High Command of the Confederacy had strongly denounced the actions of these Vulcans who had ‘demeaned and perverted the teachings of Surak for the sake of their own hatred.’ During the sunrise after the explosions, the whole city – and many others on the planet – gathered out on the streets for a mass prayer. It was reported that almost every Vulcan in the city participated. They meditated and chanted for the 134 individuals who had lost their lives from this hate crime.

As she heard the solemn melody and watched thousands of Vulcans, humans, and others mourn for all of those lives, she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Amanda stumbled into her bathroom, her breathing getting louder and louder. She stumbled to the bathtub and yanked the faucet open. Water flowed out from a slot against the wall and into the tile-lined tub. When it was half full, she threw all her clothes off onto the floor and jumped in without hesitation.

Scalding water burned her skin as she forced herself to sit and submerge herself in it. It _hurt s_ o much, but she couldn’t move. And suddenly, she felt all her emotions – grief, pain, guilt – spill out of her. It was so strong that she was collapsed into herself, head bowing as the water continued to run.

Amanda couldn’t tell which were her tears or which came from the shower – but she sobbed as violently as the water’s torrent. Her shoulders shook, and she could hardly breathe from the force of it. It all was just too much. It was as though all the noise that got sucked away from the fall just hit her in one powerful wave. Her skin seared, her lungs burned, and her heart shattered.

Titus, Fasa, Joran, Halvin, Aisha.

Denial, Bargaining, Acceptance, Anger, Depression.

All five are said to encompass the stages of grief, but how could they forget guilt?

Amanda managed to stop the water centimeters before overflowing. Every time she moved too forcefully from crying, water would spill over the edges. Focusing on not flooding the bathroom helped calm her down until she was only hiccupping.

Suddenly exhausted, she drifted asleep in the cocoon of the warm water.

* * *

Amanda woke up violently to the feeling of falling. Her limbs flailed, causing the now-cold water to slosh over the tub onto the tile floor. Her heart was racing and her skin was clammy from sitting in the water for hours.

Without preamble, she staggered out of the tub and threw up in the toilet. All of the little food she has eaten in the past two days completely left her body.

Weak and cold, Amanda slowly made her way to the shower. Water came out like a waterfall from the ceiling. She washed off all the grime still on her body and hair and the acidic taste in her mouth.

When she shut the water off, the silence comforted her. It was dark out and the computer informed her it was only 0250 Galactic Time.

In an almost daze, Amanda walked into her room and threw on a Vulcan skirt and sweater-like tunic. At her command, the tall windows slowly spun open, allowing her to walk out on the balcony.

Amanda heard a shuffle and turned to see there was a stone staircase leading down from her balcony. She slowly followed it, her light skirt flowing and slipping past her ankles.

I-Chaya lifted his big head to look at her from where he laid on the balcony – the same one she had first found him.

Amanda cautiously walked forward with one arm outstretched.

The sehlat sniffed her hand before whining and rolling onto its back. A smile didn’t come, but her features softened as she ran her hand through his smooth fur. I-Chaya followed her to a nearby lounge chair. She sat down, stretched her legs out in front of her, and leaned against the chair’s inclined back.

As Amanda looked up at the stars, she allowed herself to cry. Except this time, it wasn’t violent or overwhelming. There was no burn, but a dull, quiet ache. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she breathed deeply and felt as though a burden she carried was lightened. There was only the cool night air and the blissful silence.

She suddenly felt a heavy weight on her lap and looked down to see I’Chaya peering up at her. The tips of his long fangs brushed against her thighs. He whined, as though he was a puppy rather than a creature three times her size.

Amanda let out a watery laugh while she wiped her face. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m okay.”

Still, I-Chaya did not seem satisfied until she began to pet him. The tension she didn’t know she carried with her was gone. She deeply inhaled the fresh, cool air. It soothed her heart, and her mind felt the clearest it has in days.

With I-Chaya’s warm weight in her lap, she dozed off into a dreamless sleep beneath the stars.

* * *

When Amanda came to, the stars were still out, and her hair was still damp. An unfamiliar blanket weighed down her legs. In the horizon, she can see the faintest amount of light. Not enough to turn the sky to its usual soft orange, but enough to tint the edge of the black sky with blue.

She turned to lie on her side, and instead of seeing I-Chaya, she saw Sarek.

He was on the ground where his sehlat once was. Sitting straight with hands on his knees, Sarek was meditating, she realized.

Sarek wore the same clothes she saw him in days ago. Beneath his eyes had dark bruising from lack of sleep. Even his hair wasn’t as strict as usual, and she thought that she could maybe even see stubble around his mouth. Simply put, Sarek did not look well.

As Amanda studied him, Sarek slowly opened his eyes. With her lying on her side on the lounge chair, cheek tucked into her palm, and him on the ground, they were eye level with each other with only a foot of space in between.

Sarek seemed to hesitate before stretching out his index and middle finger in a deliberate manner. His hand hovered inches in front of hers, and she slowly matched his movement. In some instinctive motion, she pressed her fingers against his.

She hardly breathed as his fingertips trailed down the length of hers and slowly skimmed her knuckles. Amanda has never heard of or seen this action before, but there was a sense of intimacy that made her heart ache.

For a moment, neither spoke as they really took each other in for the first time in two months. Amanda had really missed him.

Sarek’s low and deep voice comforted her, although it carried solemnity with it. “I am regretful I was not here to assist you.”

Amanda looked at their joined hands resting on the chair, and then his dark eyes. She was certain she could see the remorse in them. “It’s okay.” And she meant it. “I think I needed to be alone.”

Sarek slowly nodded, as he scanned her face.

“And you?” she asked, frowning. “You look exhausted.”

“High Command is intent on dissecting the bombers movements for the past year and more.” Amanda noted how he refrained from revealing their identities – from mentioning Boron. “We found a few other with ties and brought them in to be investigated.”

Amanda fell silent, and she knew Sarek could feel the spike in emotion - anger, dread. “And?”

“They were not completely aware of the plan to attack the Embassy, but they are considered dangerous. They will be sent to a rehabilitation center and reside there until considered well in the mind.”

He certainly must’ve felt her, for he gently said, “There is no need to fear. With our telepathic capabilities, it is hard for them to deceive the Confederacy. We will not release them until they are deemed not a threat. Even afterwards, they will be closely monitored.”

They fell silent as Amanda began to mimic the movement he had made earlier. Her fingertips skimmed his knuckles, along with the visible green veins on the back of his hand. She carefully watched his reaction to see he had stilled significantly. She liked this, she thought.

“What happens now?”

Sarek looked up from their hands and met her eyes. He spoke carefully. “The Federation has announced there will be a memorial service on Earth in four days. If you accept my request to come with me, I plan on departing later today.”

“Okay” came out of her swiftly, easily.

There were a lot of questions Amanda had. Questions that would eat her up at night – and perhaps continue to do so for the rest of her life. But for now, she will heal.

Her hand felt warm beneath his. Together, they looked out towards the brightening sky, and for the first time in days, Amanda watched the Eridani star rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE. Not the best time in the story to disappear (for good reasons) but I'm BACK!
> 
> A long, sad chapter, but a necessary one. The matter with Boron's ideology is not over yet, but as Amanda says, its time for healing first. The whole problem with logic extremists/xenophobia is something that the s'chn t'gai family experiences continuously throughout their life, and I find there to be a sort of tragedy but also beauty about them just trying to live but with a heavy weight over their heads - and this is just the first experience. The strain that that would put on a family is huge. It's something for them both to consider in soon (possibly aha) addressing a relationship. 
> 
> As always, I love hearing what you guys think! Hope everyone is well!


	16. Utilitarianism

_Utilitarianism says that morality, or whether something is right or wrong, is determined by the overall benefit of the consequences of action. No action is intrinsically right or wrong, and we should act to maximize the well-being of a population._

_* Vulcans have their own corresponding theory that states the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few._

* * *

Amanda lived in a small house on the far outskirts of San Francisco. Surrounded by other homes of similar design around her, Sarek found little semblance of privacy. Indeed, as he parked his admittedly large cruiser on the street, he could see curtains being drawn back, and humans from within staring at him curiously. A little animal nearby began to emit a high-pitched bark and refused to cease its vocal attack. Eventually, an elder female ushered the creature inside. Yet he could still hear its faint yaps even behind closed doors.

He had not seen her since he had dropped her off in her home as soon as they arrived at Earth two days ago. Most of the journey back to Earth rather quiet. She spoke little and seemed content to just sit in the co-pilot seat beside him and stare out the window. Other times, they played _k_ _al-toh._

Sarek understood her need for privacy and peace and had not reached out to her since their arrival. He spent most of his time at the Vulcan Embassy and assisted with communications between Vulcan and Earth. But in the morning of the memorial service, Sarek found himself in her quaint suburban neighborhood.

He stepped through the front fence and stepped up onto the porch. He announced his presence using the control pad beside the yellow front door.

“ _Resident is outdoors at the rear of the house.”_

Sarek contemplated waiting on the porch until she returned, but the sound of the Earth animal and the stares of the humans was beginning to discomfort him. The porch appeared to wrap around the whole house, so, with great dignity, he walked towards the rear.

Amanda was crouching beside great green bushes that contained vibrant red flora in bloom. Her arms reached within the leaves, and he heard an audible _snip_. She pulled out a stalk with a single red rose at the end and placed it in the growing pile beside her. She donned a simple dress in black, the human customary color of mourning.

It was then as he was descending the porch’s stairs that Amanda looked up and noticed his presence.

Her light brown eyes widened, and she stood. Her hands were gloved in protective wear. “Sarek, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I am en route to the memorial. I came from a meeting with the President of the United Earth.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I see.”

“If you would accept, I have come to offer transportation.”

Sarek was pleased to see her smile, even if it was small – it has been quite some time since he has last saw her do so. Time seemed to be the most effective in healing. 

“I accept.” Amanda bent down and carefully gathered the picked roses. “But I’m afraid I’m not quite ready yet. Is that alright?”

“That is acceptable.”

Sarek followed her back up the porch and assisted in opening the back door. He trailed in after Amanda, who murmured a soft “thanks.”

Having never been inside her home before, Sarek assessed her space. The back door led straight to an open design that included the kitchen, main room, and a small round eating table. White gauze curtains around every window were pushed back, letting the morning light stream in. Photos and art hung on the walls. Everything bright in color, and a little mismatched. While more cluttered than a typical Vulcan home, there was an overall pleasant atmosphere. He noticed that a suitcase different from the one she had brought from Vulcan sat by the front door.

The roses spilled over the wooden tabletop. There was already a vase of fresh roses on the table as well, which Amanda swiftly moved aside.

“You can sit here, if you’d like. Can I offer you anything while I do this?”

“That is unnecessary.” Sarek sat at the table and followed her movements around her kitchen. She opened a cabinet and put her gardening gloves away while also pulling out a sturdy pair of scissors and a roll of twine.

“May I query on the purpose for these plants?”

Amanda walked over to beside where he sat. She remained standing over the table as she selected a single stalk.

“They’re for the service,” she said simply. He watched curiously as she began to cut off the full leaves. “People often bring flowers to services out of respect.”

Sarek considered this. “I was unaware of this formality.”

“It’s alright. It’s typically for close friends and family.”

Amanda moved the fallen leaves in a pile in the far corner, and then proceeded to cut off the thorns. What remained was a single clean stalk with a ruby red bud. She placed it to the side and efficiently continued going through the remaining pile.

“What is the associated significance?”

“For a service, it could really be any flowers, and it’s a gesture of sympathy and respect to those who have passed. However, humans give flowers for anything – celebrations, well-wishes, and so on.”

“A very versatile symbol,” Sarek acknowledged. “And roses in particular? You have previously informed me your father improved your disposition with this flora, and you have suggested a preference towards them.”

Her mouth twitched upwards as she inspected the petals of a new stalk. It seemed to pass her standards as she continued to cut off its leaves. “They remind of my dad and childhood, and I just always found them quite lovely. Besides, take a whiff.”

Amanda lifted the last one towards him, and he gingerly inhaled. “It is pleasant. You often wear a comparable scent.”

She blinked at him and then snorted. “Your right. My soap is usually scented with rose. I really do have a preference, I suppose.”

Amanda bunched up the finished stalks, thus creating a bouquet with less of its foliage in the way. Using the twine, Amanda began to tie it all together. “Though, generally, in our society, roses especially are more symbolic of love.”

Amanda held it out the finished bundle at arm’s length. “Well?”

Sarek inspected it and requested for the scissors. “There are a few stems that would require additional trimming to have uniform length.”

“Go for it.” Amanda carefully swept the remaining thorns and leaves into a basket. “I’m going to finish getting ready if that’s alright.”

“Of course.”

Sarek quickly finished, and he collected the discarded stems and placed it into the basket as well.

A bookshelf caught his attention, and he moved to inspect it. It was filled with human texts, and most appeared from the classics age, or two-hundred years previously. Yet one of the shelves also had photos and various trinkets.

In an older photo, he recognized Amanda as a young child on the shoulders of an adult male. Context suggested it was her father. Another photo included Amanda, her father, and an older female that shared a strong resemblance with her.

The rest of the photos were more recent and looked to be in the past few years. He recognized her colleagues – her friends – at various settings. By the ocean, at dinners, at the laboratory. Amanda had more photos with them than with her family. Especially with Aisha Sarhal.

Sarek heard Amanda approaching, and she appeared at his side. For a moment, they both gazed at the photos, until Amanda asked, “Ready?”

He nodded, and Amanda gently tucked the bouquet in her elbow.

The Federation Monument Wall was located along the coast of the San Francisco Bay. It was made of marble and inscribed with the names of fallen officials who have passed on duty since its creation stretched down for miles. It was here the 169 individuals who were lost during the bombings would be memorialized.

It was a large affair, with so many families coming to honor their loved ones. It was by invite only, and since he was one of Vulcan’s representatives and Amanda was on duty during the attack, they were both allowed to attend as well.

The current president for the Federation along with those who previously carried the position spoke – the eldest of which was a human at 112 years of age. They offered their sympathies, regret, and grief to all those affected by such tragedies.

Minister T’Pol followed soon after. As representative of the High Command, she spoke for the entirety of the Confederacy of Vulcan herself. Sarek noted that she allowed some of her emotion slip into her strong words, as she denounced the hate and horror that caused the deaths of so many souls. T’Pol reflected on her time during the Starfleet, and the countless bonds she had made with its human crew. He quietly explained to Amanda, who sat beside him, that T’Pol was the first Vulcan to serve aboard an all-human crew and has since been an important advocate for Earth-Vulcan relations.

All the while, the waves softly lapped against the stones, and the breeze brought in the salty air.

It was not long after that the ceremony had quietly concluded, allowing families to grieve and respect their loved ones. It was hushed and solemn, a rare and disquieting moment to be with among humans. He accepted Amanda’s offer to join her as they walked along the smooth stones. Whenever Amanda found a familiar name, Sarek would stand away as she would place a single stalk by their name.

With every name, it was as though a weight grew on her shoulders. Sarek could only watch as the small amount of peace Amanda had with her this morning faded bit by bit. But he also listened, as Amanda would softly describe each of her friends.

They continued to weave down the wall and passed by grieving families, until Amanda had a single rose left.

Eventually, they found the name. Aisha Sarhal.

Except this time, there was already a large family around it. Amanda hesitated, and Sarek could see her eyes watering as she quickly blinked. 

“I'll just need a minute.”

Sarek nodded and watched intensely as she slowly approached the family. The matriarch – likely Sarhal’s mother – turned as Amanda appeared. Her shoulders were hunched, and her head bowed. Sarek could see that she was speaking, and he did not like to see her as though she was preparing for a blow.

But suddenly, the elder female stepped forward and embraced Amanda. While he could not hear them, he could Amanda’s face burrow into the woman’s shoulder. Their shoulders shook, and he knew they were grieving.

“Ambassador, may I request you join me?”

Sarek turned to T’Pol and only briefly hesitated. “Yes, Minister.”

He followed her lead as they slowly walked further down the wall.

The elder female spoke truthfully. “In solemn moments such as now, I am grateful for our people’s capabilities to manage and repress our emotions. But I confess, there was a moment during my time in Starfleet that I had envied humans for their depth of feeling.”

“It is only expected,” appeased Sarek. “Years surrounded by their kind would logically introduce doubt in Surak’s ways.”

“Perhaps. Yet by my second year aboard the USS-Enterprise, I had already found myself struggling with the Vulcan way of life. You, Ambassador, have been among humans for five years, and I do not believe you have undergone such conflict.”

Sarek fell silent. “That is correct. I have yet to question the necessity of emotional restraint – I believe it crucial for my way of life and my line of work.” He hesitated and then quietly confessed, “However, I have recently nonetheless found myself wanting to know – or rather, _understand_ – how they feel. I often believe such empathy eludes me.”

“Vulcans and humans are not so dissimilar as both sides make it out to be, as I am sure you aware.” Before Sarek could dissect the meaning of the last statement, T’Pol smoothly continued, “Two ends of a spectrum, but on the same spectrum, nevertheless.”

Sarek has considered this topic frequently in these past two months. While Sarek has long made his decision, it’s always necessary to consider both sides of the argument. “Yet there is still a large incompatibility. Not just mentally, but physically, as well.”

Perhaps he was overstepping what was appropriate, but T’Pol simply raised an eyebrow. “Yes. There are many considerations: life expectancy, genetic makeup, and brain function. Yet these are all negligible compared to the _katras_ we all have.”

“It is said that humans do not possess _katras_.”

“As those who have said such a thing had never bonded with a human – I find their words hollow and inconsequential.”

T’Pol suddenly stopped, and Sarek slowly stood beside her at her request. In front of them was a plaque.

_Charles Tucker III_

_2121 – 2161_

_In honor of a Father, Son, Friend,_

_Commander of USS-Enterprise NX-01_

The significance the name had on T’Pol did not go unnoticed to Sarek, who watched as the elder Vulcan lightly touched the engraving.

“Human _katras_ are different, yes, but it is still life and soul.” Her soft tone hardened, and Sarek levelly met her gaze. “There will always be opposition and conflict between both sides. It is only natural. But even during such difficulties, do not regret loving someone.”

This, of all the things T’Pol has said, left him surprised. It was a direct statement that some Vulcans would consider it almost blasphemous, especially from a Minister of Vulcan.

“I have not before heard of a Vulcan mentioning love – it is a human concept.” Sarek said the latter with truth and conviction.

“Indeed,” T’Pol agreed. “But when us Vulcans set our minds to it, we have _always_ been quick learners.”

At that moment, T’Pol glanced past Sarek. He turned to see Amanda uncertainly standing a couple feet away. Her eyes were tinged red, along with the tip of her nose and cheeks.

Yet she appeared put together and offered a smile to the approaching T’Pol, who gently spoke. “Amanda, I would like to offer my condolences for all you have lost.”

Amanda’s voice was warm. “Thank you, T’Pol. That truly means a lot to me.”

“It is regretful we have not managed to meet as planned in Vulcan. It is unfortunate you had to depart in such conditions.”

“I am actually heading back to Vulcan in a few days, and I can make time if you’re available as well.”

“I will reach out to you and schedule a time. Until then, _Dif-tor heh smusma.”_

The two returned the farewell, and T’Pol departed, leaving them alone at the shores.

“Would you mind if we sit for a bit?” sighed Amanda. “It has been a long day.”

They sat at a nearby bench that faced the bay. They were at the far end of the memorial, and there were significantly less people around the names of those who had passed early in the Federation’s creation.

Every time a wave rolled in and crashed the rocks below them, a soft wave of wind would blow against them. The sun’s rays sparkled against the clear blue water.

It was a peaceful atmosphere, so Sarek did not expect Amanda’s confession. “I read Boron’s dissertation.”

A flicker of irritation arose in him. “You should not have. How did you receive the file?”

“Considering he released it to the public database right before his attack – ”

“ – which the High Command then took down for its blatant bigotry and cry for violence. They ordered that it was not to be read.”

“They ordered their _citizens_. Not me.”

Reading Boron’s 458 paged confession was the first thing Sarek did after taking Amanda to the D’H’riset. He had first listed all of his illegal endeavors that ranged from hacking, stalking, illegal obtainment of chemicals, and stealing nanoexplosives from the Vulcan Science Academy. Then, he proceeded to justify his actions.

The idea of Amanda reading it was concerning, especially so soon after the attack. “And what did you hope to gain from this?”

“Answers.”

“And did you?”

There was a bitterness in her words. “It was very well written.”

Sarek finally turned to set his gaze on her. She was staring out ahead to the sea, and although she was still flushed pink, there was no sign of anger or sadness. She spoke with an almost disbelief. “He tied in _everything_ to the presence of offworlders – economy, society, academics, and more. Like when the Romulans infiltrated the first High Command – we still don’t know how long they were there for, but they almost destabilized the planet. Or how the numbers of those undergoing _kolinahr,_ which was centuries ago done by every single Vulcan, starkly decreased since the creation of the Federation while Vulcans without logic, the _v’tosh ka’tur_ , increased. He literally had hundreds of examples, each with its own little citation – and I can hardly remember it all.”

“Anything can be construed to satisfy one’s ideology,” he told her. "He believed that he was acting on the welfare of our people, but that viewpoint is flawed."

She waved a hand. “I know, but even _I_ thought he was quite convincing.” She gave a short, empty laugh. “He made himself a martyr and left behind a doctrine.”

“Most Vulcans would not entertain such a writing. To even say his name in our society would be an offense.”

“Most,” she agreed. “But he claimed he found some sort of an enlightenment from _kolinahr_ – one that allowed him to make such a ‘sacrifice’. ‘A true and pure step towards logic’, he called it. I guarantee you that there will be a small spike in those who want to undergo _kolinahr_.”

Sarek considered that. It was a logical conclusion. “There will always be extremists in every population. Terra Prime, for example, was Earth’s – and from what I hear, they still have a small presence to this day. _Galornia Anir_ is Andoria’s. But we cannot let them impede the victories of the Federation. The Federation is still young, but its value is immeasurable.”

“So what then – we just ignore extremists until they become big enough of a problem?”

“That is not my viewpoint. I agree that Boron's influence will be felt, and it is our duty to prevent any more destruction. This huge loss will only allow us to grow – to become more prepared and vigilant against such acts of terrorism. But logically, loss is inevitable.”

Amanda frowned. “I don’t believe that. I don’t think that all those people had to die because it was _inevitable_. There are people out there who still carry animosity, and they walk among us and - ” She shook her head. “And you know what terrifies me the most?”

Sarek shifted, and Amanda turned towards him, her elbow resting on the back of the bench. Her tone became insistent. “I mean – Boron. He was with us almost every day since day one - when we arrived at Vulcan. We spoke to him, greeted him, laughed around him. We _saw_ him, and he was always just in the background. And I never, _ever_ got the sense that he had any ill intentions. How can someone without emotion have the motivation to do this?”

“He had conviction,” Sarek said simply. “He had a belief. _Kolinahr_ does not make us shells of a being. It is only emotion that is relinquished, but our memories, our principles remain very much intact.”

Amanda fell silent, and she appeared to be focused on the bench. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and her fingertips skimmed the grains of the wood. Sarek’s eyes followed her movements.

“It is likely we will never truly understand his motives. However, he did unintentionally impart a lesson that many of our philosophers will struggle to accept.”

“And what’s that?”

“A reminder that one does not need emotions to be dangerous.”

A wave splashed against the rocks below them. The sound was startling loud, but it was followed by a softer sigh as the water receded - as if the ocean itself was carrying away their solemn words. Amanda’s eyes flickered up, and he did not realize he was watching her face until she did so.

Abruptly, he said, “I was not aware you were to return to Vulcan.”

Amanda blinked before exhaling heavily. Sarek studied her as she rubbed her temples. “I offered to oversee the return of my friends’ possessions back to their families, and I also plan on meeting with Shi’Kahr’s Learning Center.”

“What is occurring at the Learning Center?”

“Before I left for Shanai’Kahr, I sort of handed over ownership of the L’Tak Terai device to the faculty there. They have continued to implement and improve treatment since, and they had kindly offered to update me on their progress.”

“That is commendable of you to relinquish your work.”

Amanda tightened her coat around her. “It was necessary – it shouldn’t have ended just because I couldn’t be there.”

“I am returning to Shi’Kahr as well, and I, once more, extend an offer to you to travel with me.”

Her eyes met his in surprise. “You’re heading back? I thought that since the proceedings and everything have finished, you would continue your ambassador duties to Earth.”

Sarek paused and then spoke carefully. “A month ago, I was asked to become an ambassador for the Federation. I accepted and thus am now no longer Vulcan Ambassador to Earth.”

Sarek noticed how her eyes widened in shock, and how she swallowed before asking, “How come?”

“During your time away in Shanai’Kahr, the Federation had asked me to accompany the _USS-Kelvin_ and lead delegations with the Klingon Empire. During this time, they offered the position.”

Amanda blinked rapidly and before he could look closer, she looked straight ahead towards the ocean. “Is that what you had wanted?”

“Yes. My time on Earth has been invaluable for experience, but I believe I could be more of help with the Federation. It would allow me to return back to Vulcan and occupy the empty _D’H’riset._ Furthermore, as these past months have revealed to me, I share the beliefs of the Federation and would value the opportunity to represent it.”

Her smile was warm, as she placed her hand over his clothed arm and squeezed lightly. “Sarek, you’re going to be an great ambassador.”

“I believe I already am.”

Amanda laughed but began to rub her eyes.

“Are you well?” Sarek asked, feeling a brush of concern.

It took a moment for her to respond, until she inhaled deeply and brought her hand down. She gave him a soft smile. “Yes, just tired.”

“Would you prefer to depart?”

“I’d like to sit here for a bit more, if you don’t mind.”

“I am content to do so.”

They sat in companionable silence and listened to the sound of waves crashing and receding. And in a rare occurrence, Sarek finally felt warm beneath the San Francisco sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because, you know, San Francisco is actually cold af (especially for a Vulcan) loll AND UGH I just freaking love T'Pol and she deserves the world. And anyone catch Archer's very brief, very vague mention? Is Trip dead? Who knows lol canonly yes so far - but this story leaves it open to interpretation! Maybe he did fake his death cries
> 
> I don't know about y'all, but this week has been annoyingly busy! I hope everyone is well, and I am always glad to hear comments/thoughts/questions! And this story is almost OVER AHA im crying


	17. Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis

_The Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis claims that language completely affects its speakers' worldview and cognition, and thus people's perceptions and thoughts are relative to their spoken language._

* * *

Amanda gazed at the streaking white lights above her. Sarek’s cruiser was fast enough to enter warp speed, allowing her to gaze up in amazement through the windows as she laid on the bed. It boggled her that with just a few inches separated her from the vast expanse of space, and she took the moment to just marvel in the wonder of it all.

She had adjusted the temperature of the top level of the ship, which contained a bedroom at the front of the ship and a small seating area at the back, to be a little cooler than usual so that she’d sleep well enough. During the initial days following the attack, she had spent most of her time asleep. But nowadays, she often found herself drifting in and out of a light slumber for hours at a time. It had become unsustainable, and Amanda began to rely on medication to help her.

It certainly helped, but waking up afterwards felt like a slow battle of pulling away layers and layers of thick webs. It would take her at least an hour each time to gain enough strength to even sit up.

Her mother had been concerned about her ever since Amanda mentioned once she was taking sleeping pills. Amanda found her concerns completely unnecessary, but her mom would fuss over the phone, nonetheless. It was a strange change in pace compared to the last few years.

They weren’t estranged, necessarily, but their calls strictly coincided with important events – holidays, birthdays, and an occasional life-changing update. Her mom had called her after days of not being able to reach her ever since the news of the attack, and the last time they spoke before that was right when Amanda found out she would be going to Vulcan for six months. Neither of them were particularly overly sentimental, and Amanda respected that her mom had her own life in Virgina now. But Amanda appreciated the often daily check-ins they had tentatively begun to establish.

“Computer, when are we arriving?”

“ _Six hours and three minutes until arrival to Shi’Kahr.”_

Amanda frowned. Sarek had allowed her to sleep in the sole bedroom. She slept longer than she expected, and she remembered Sarek’s request. “Can you patch me to the console?”

“ _Transmitting to main console.”_

“Sarek, I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

His reply was almost immediate. “ _The meal has been prepared.”_

Amanda stretched like a cat before sighing heavily. With little preamble, she swung her legs over the bed and padded to the bathroom. She splashed water on her face to help with the waking up process and threw on a cardigan.

She opened the doors and walked down the short hall to the seating area. Sarek’s new cruiser had two levels, the lower of which was mainly the piloting console and storage. The top level had a bedroom, as well as a seating area at the very back of the second floor with wide horizontal windows that allowed viewers to see the warp drive in action. It was dizzying to see the light rays get streak behind as the cruiser out sped them all.

There were window seats directly beneath the view, in front of which was a small rectangular table. Sarek was already there setting up the table.

“Sorry, I was asleep longer than expected.”

“Your apology is unnecessary. It is due to my schedule we have departed during Earth’s nighttime, and I consider the amount of time you have slept to be satisfactory for maximal functioning.”

Amanda hid her smile, as she sat where he gestured. The both sat at the corner of the table, her on the window seat and he at the side. Like their last journey to Earth, he had cooked her traditional Vulcan food. She had learned he was awfully - yet unsurprisingly - meticulous about his cooking.

As they ate, she asked him about what he was looking forward to about being a Federation Ambassador and other questions about his duties, and although he answered, he did not seem to be in particularly talkative mood. He seemed contemplative, if not stressed. She knew he was attending meetings while she was sleeping, and it was likely they did not end so well. When she picked up on that, she decided not to press on him and finished eating.

Afterwards, she picked up their plates and washed them.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

At that, Sarek turned to her and seemed to hesitate. “Will you join me afterwards?”

She smiled and nodded. When they had flown from Vulcan to Earth a week ago, Sarek had taught her _kal-toh_ , a Vulcan game of strategy and, of course, logic. It involved a bunch of bundled up sticks, known as _t’an_ ’s, and successfully making a standing structure. She rarely ever won but was often content to simply watch him build an elaborate structure from the chaos. They typically played after eating, and Amanda found herself looking forward to it once more.

The shower worked wonders to wash away the remaining webs on her body and mind. She didn’t know how long she stood underneath the comforting spray, but the clarity allowed her to think about matters she had long swept under the rug.

Amanda was technically considered “on leave” in the Federation due to her presence during the attack and her duty to gather her team’s possessions. But she knew that she’d have to eventually get back into the swing of things, including presenting all the data and results they have managed to obtain the past six months.

She shut her eyes, feeling the water stream over her eyes and down the bridge of her nose. Amanda couldn’t even imagine doing all of that without her friends – it was their work as much as hers, and the thought of it just sounded emotionally and mentally draining. The teams they had worked with in Shanai’Kahr had reached out to her almost immediately, expressing condolences and an offer to assist her in these matters in any way necessary. They had expanded and added a branch in Shi’Kahr who had offered to assist via telecommunications when she goes back to Earth.

She, once more, found herself beyond grateful for the relationships she had forged in her short time in Vulcan. And it just ached to think of all that she wouldn’t see again – her teams, T’Pille, T’Pol, her friends. _Sarek_.

Before, Amanda selfishly thought that she’d at least have him in San Francisco. She knew she’d hardly see him once he began working at the Embassy, but the idea brought her solace. But to now know that he would be living in Vulcan and she’d never see him –

Amanda violently shoved that out of her mind before she would start crying again. Eyes tightly shut, she pressed the bridge of her nose as she forced herself to breathe.

San Francisco would just be so empty without all of them. In a particularly vulnerable moment, she had expressed that to her mother, who, without hesitating, asked her to come to Virginia. Amanda had accepted.

It would only be temporary, Amanda had assured. A few weeks, max. She just needed to not be alone in a city she had so many memories in. She hadn’t even informed the Federation Science Council yet, but she figured they would allow this. Maybe she’ll start new. Transfer to Paris – anywhere else.

Amanda stepped out of the shower and towel-dried her body and hair. She used the towel to wipe away the condensation from the mirror and took a moment to calculatingly inspect herself.

Her wet dark brown hair was almost black as the moisture locked her strands together. It made her skin look paler, sicker, than usual. After a week of being away from Eridani’s strong rays, she was already losing whatever tan she had gained. It didn’t help that she rarely had left her home. Maybe her cheeks were a bit thinner. Despite her long sleep, she had faint bruising beneath her eyes. All in all, she did not look her best.

But she looked at the good things, too. Her skin was softer and looked dewy after her shower. Her hair was lightly curled into soft natural waves. However, it was her light brown eyes that caught her attention.

There were many experiments that have been done to assess why humans often felt an association of intimacy when maintaining eye contact. They would put complete strangers in front of each other and have them stare into each other’s eyes, and the participants would then describe their experience. Consistently, the participants would say they felt a connection just from this alone. Some even felt love.

In her own bubble, Amanda forced herself to look at her reflection’s eyes.

There was sadness, she thought. She could see it in how soft and relaxed her eyes were. Almost downcast. There was fear – fear of the future. Fear of moving on. Of forgetting.

But there was also a clarity, one that she has not seen before. It was an awareness and acceptance – maybe even wisdom – that could only come from pain and heartache. It wasn’t frightening, but calm and sure.

With that, there was strength. Amanda could see it in herself, in the levelled gaze she met. It has always been there with her, and it surely has not left even now. And there was love, so much of it for the people in her lives – whether alive or dead. For those from her past, and those who are new. New, but more powerful than anything she’s felt. And love for herself.

The smile that she saw in the mirror was the largest, most real one she’s given in weeks.

In preparation for their soon arrival, she donned a simple loose long-sleeved shirt tucked into a skirt that ended at her calves. She quickly packed her things and made the bed.

Amanda walked back into the seating area, and she immediately focused on the massive window showing the warp field distorting about the cruiser.

And then she noticed Sarek.

He sat at the same spot she had left him looking as though he was about to attend an official meeting. His posture was especially straight and tense, but his expression was as calm and impassive as ever. She couldn’t even tell if he was breathing.

But the reason she had slowed to a stop was because of what was on the table.

Sarek had completely cleared off the top, and left a single object lying straight across and carefully in front of him.

A rose.

Whatever calm state she had from her shower was completely thrown out of the window. Her heart inexplicably began to race before she even fully comprehended what was in front of her. But Amanda couldn’t decipher the meaning of this, and that strangely comforted her.

It was enough for her to slowly sit beside him under the window like before.

Sarek didn’t say anything, or even look at her, as she settled. She glanced up briefly at him before looking down and followed his gaze.

The rose sat on the table directly in front of her. She recognized the precise shade of ruby red.

Unsure of what to say, she asked, “May I?”

“Yes. It is for you.”

Her smile lightly graced her lips. She picked up the stem which was pleasantly cool and firm beneath her touch. The bud was a good one as well. No tears or sign of decay. It had large volume and a vibrant shade of red.

She brought it up to her nose and breathed in the familiar scent. Her heart slowed, and she felt significantly calmer.

Amanda lightly raised an eyebrow. “When did you even get this?”

Sarek had the decency to pause. “While you were busy gathering your things before our departure. I had considered going elsewhere rather than taking one from your garden, but you seemed partial to these in particular.”

The stalk was completely and carefully bare of leaves and thorns. She remembered how he had curiously watched as she prepared the flowers for the service. “You’re a quick learner.”

Sarek seemed to shift at those words. “My people generally are.”

Her voice was steady. “Sarek?”

For the first time, he looked up from the rose to her eyes. They were unexpectedly vulnerable, more so than he ever let himself to be. She realized he was allowing himself to show her. “Yes, Amanda.”

“May I ask what this is for?”

His words were as gentle and careful as his eyes. “I have been informed that roses are symbolic of love.”

Amanda looked down at the bud, her finger stroking against one of the large silky petals as she struggled to fight against the sudden wave of emotions that was threatening to overwhelm her.

“I am asking you to be my _adun’a_.”

Sarek only continued when she looked up questioningly, his eyes never leaving hers. “My bondmate, my wife.”

Amanda blinked. “Oh.”

Her heart rate shot back up in a second. Her hands tingled. It was as though her body was already reacting before her mind even processed the meaning of his words. It was as though he had told her they were jumping off a building again.

Consciously aware of his eyes on her, she raised a finger. “Can I have a minute?”

“Of course.” He politely looked away.

Amanda eventually was able to quiet the internal panicking in her head.

She swallowed. She often prided herself on her eloquence, yet she was floored on what to even think. It goes without question that as a Vulcan, he had thought this through, but that meant she had a lot more questions herself. 

Her voice came out leveled, to her relief. “When did you decide this?”

Sarek turned back and answered concisely and steadily. “Not long after my mother’s _Ha’vik Sadalaya_. I had meditated afterwards and became quite certain about this proposal. However, I did not find the timing appropriate, as you were to depart for two months. After you returned and the attack occurred, I waited until a more suitable time.”

She stared, her cheeks warm. “You decided just based on a _kiss?”_

“There were other factors. Our compatibility was long apparent since our initial meetings, but it was not until after the _Ha’vik Sadalaya_ that I allowed myself to reflect on our experiences together and the accompanying emotions.” He then spoke quietly, as if revealing a grave secret. “It was made clear to me that my concerns towards you had long become less logical as Ambassador and due to more personal affections.”

Amanda blinked and breathed in the rose’s scent. She still had trouble seeing when this happened. She had felt for him long before she had first put a name to it, but she knew it was there. But for Sarek, she had assumed he only thought of her as a friend. They never spoke about the kiss, and this was the first time since he has even outwardly expressed any romantic feelings.

“What do you mean less logical?”

“I had attributed my concern to you due to my status as Ambassador, and it was easy for myself and others to accept that. But it influenced my choices – protecting you, accompanying you, entering a falling building for you. The latter, especially. I went into the Federation Headquarters unsanctioned to locate you. Those, I have acknowledged afterwards, had no basis in logic other than for carrying strong affections towards you.”

That word again – _affection_.

She gave a small laugh in disbelief, albeit a bit watery as well. She wiped her eyes but spoke in a low tone. “Sarek, are you _sure_ you thought this through? You have a much longer lifespan, and I don’t even know if we’re able to build a family together. Not to mention you are an Ambassador of Vulcan – after everything that has happened, are our people even going to allow this?”

“I had two months to consider the implications of our bonding, so yes, I am certain. For the matter of age, I find the difference negligible. Humans have an average life span of 120 years, and it continues to increase with technological and medical advancements.”

She laughed weakly and placed the rose on the table. His eyes followed its movement. “Sarek, by the time I am 120 years old, I am going to be just skin and bones.”

“If you live an additional 95 years to reach that age, I will be the human equivalent of 80 years. I find that to be comparable. And as for the matter of children, there have been incidences of successful recombinant offspring, and I am not impartial to the option of adoption as well.”

Amanda smiled at that. It seemed to encourage him to continue, “As for the relationship between our two peoples, there is no law against our joining. We’d be protected under the Interspecies Relations Protocol.”

“That’s not what I meant by that.”

“There will likely always be tension between both sides, and not everyone will approve. But I believe it is logical to assume that our own bond will assist in bridging our people together.”

Her smile was both sad and fond. “That is uncharacteristically optimistic.”

Sarek raised an eyebrow. “You disagree?”

“There are bound to be ramifications.” Amanda crossed her arms and leaned forward on the table. She frowned, as she stared down at the rose in thought. “And I’m not talking about legal ones, but – ” She shook her head. “You understand?”

“I do.” His eyes were hard, and there was blunt honesty in his words. “I cannot account for everything, no matter how much I attempt to. This would include your safety. I confess it is selfish of me to ask this of you, as I am uncertain of what would await us. Yet to let fear rule over my decisions would be illogical.” He shook his head almost wearily, an unexpectedly _human_ act. “And somehow, I find the possible threat of harm to be inferior when it compares to our relationship.”

Amanda wanted to touch him, hug him – anything. But she had to play all her cards.

So, she confessed, “I don’t even know what it means bond with you. I don’t know your expectations of a Vulcan wife, an Ambassador’s wife – _your_ wife.”

Sarek fell silent at that, and she could tell he was carefully building up a perfectly logical and sound counterargument.

“As a Vulcan wife, you would accustom yourself to my culture, but I do not ask nor expect that you forfeit your own. As an Ambassador’s wife, you would support me in my political endeavors and even represent my name should you choose to, or you may choose to simply accompany me on my trips without role. Or, you can stay behind in our home – the choice is yours. I recognize it would not be easy for you. You would have to give up your world to be with me.” He hesitated. “But as _my_ wife, I ask only of your faith, companionship, and protection, which as your _adun_ – your husband – I will offer as well. More concisely, I ask for a bond.”

“What does that mean, exactly?”

“It is a ritual performed during the marriage ceremony by a high priestess that would telepathically bind us. Not only in mind, but in our _katras._ Based off of Surak’s teachings, a bond is crucial to uphold societal structure and maintain self-satisfaction. It can be a partnership, like my initial marriage was – built out of duty and mutual respect. But this ritual is ancient and has been done far longer than Surak’s teachings. It can be an extremely deep bond as well – stronger than any other known link between individuals, which is what I desire to have with you.”

Amanda forced herself to breathe as she took all of that in. She felt her jumbled emotions and picked on the only one holding her back – doubt.

“You are unsure.”

Amanda looked up at Sarek and saw only impassivity.

“Yes,” she admitted. She struggled to get her words out, but if he could be so honest with her, he deserved the same. “But it is not because I do not share the same feelings.” She said it bluntly – they were long past that. “But the doubt I have is in part because I do not see unbiased logic in your decision, and I’m afraid that one day you would have a moment of clarity because of that and have regret.”

Sarek looked at her intensely, and she willed herself not to look away. “It is true that this would be easier for our people and perhaps for ourselves if we did not pursue this relationship. That is logical. But a bond – something as old as our race, older than our concept of logic – should not be wholly constrained by whether it is logical or not. I made this decision knowing that I would be immensely negatively affected if I were to cut ties with you. For myself, the regret from not being with you would far outweigh any of the difficulties we would have as bondmates. Even as a Vulcan, I cannot ignore nor rid of my affections.”

“That leads me to my last reason of doubt,” sighed Amanda as she rubbed her eyes again. “ _Affection_. For humans, affection is not nearly the same as love. That is just one example of our different comprehension of emotions. I am afraid that I, myself, will feel regret and doubt for not having my emotional needs met. I’m afraid I’ll never be sure of the depth of your affections. I am not strong enough to love someone who cannot feel it for me.”

It was his turn to turn silent for a minute, and Amanda patiently waited. That was vulnerable, and she meant every single word. So, Amanda cannot give him an answer without being sure of his affection towards her, and she was terrified that Sarek simply could not give what she asks.

Finally, Sarek spoke heavily, “I cannot say I am certain if Vulcans experience a feeling like love – it is a human concept and does not translate well into Vulcan culture. But I have once told you that emotions run deeply in our race – perhaps more deeply than humans. I can personally assure you that ‘affection’ is not used lightly among are people, and what I feel for you is strong and deep, and I believe analogous to love. But I am aware this answer may be unsatisfactory, and I can only offer to show you through mind-meld.”

“Like bonding?”

“Bonding is what would tie our minds together, but melding is the merging of minds. It is temporary, and it can be done to anyone for many purposes. But the degree of intimacy varies – it could be a mere brush, or a full meld.” He paused. “A full meld is considered very intimate and personal, as it would allow both our minds and _katras_ to merge. It is only done between mates.”

Amanda’s cheeks warmed. It felt like he was asking to have _sex_ with her. “I didn’t mean to force you to offer that.”

Sarek raised his eyebrow. “I have already asked to bond with you. This is not as comparable to that.”

That prompted a small smile on her face. In a nervous tic, she straightened the rose and rolled it so the bud wouldn’t be squashed on one side. “Okay.”

Sarek sat beside her on the window seat, and they turned towards each other, knees brushing.

When he raised his hand to her face, her eyes widened as she had a mini internal freak out moment. She would laugh if she was with anyone else. Sarek – the Vulcan who did not like touching – was about to touch her face, and she felt like they were about to reach second base. She supposed this was similar, if not more, to that for Vulcans.

His hands froze, and Amanda inwardly grimaced. In a painstakingly polite manner, she said “I apologize. I wasn’t prepared. Continue.”

Amanda focused on Sarek’s dark eyes as he carefully placed his fingertips on her chin, cheekbone, and temple.

His gaze met hers, and he quietly murmured in a low, hypnotic voice, “My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts.”

And then, Amanda fell.

* * *

Her experience with T’Lara was meant to be educational. T’Lara had allowed Amanda to sink into her katra without imposing herself in Amanda’s mind. Furthermore, T’Lara had yanked Amanda into her mind and left her flailing in a foreign, alien environment until the tides pulled her.

But a warmth that Amanda just knew was _Sarek_ had cocooned her as she fell blindly into this shared mind. He gently enveloped around her and prevented her from falling apart into wisps of herself. Her mind, not used to a foreign invader, instinctively fought to kick him out – even if that meant at her own expense. She was like a wild animal who was retreating within herself until the self-made pressure became too much.

But Sarek kept her afloat, and his thoughts – abstract and not fully formed into words but rather into intent – whispered across her consciousness as he coaxed her out. His pure and safe intentions could not be deceitful in this raw state, and he tenderly pushed that towards the instinctual, involuntary part of her mind.

Eventually, she unfurled, and he tightened his hold on her mind before it could unravel completely. Rather, he helped her become something more tangible. As her mind grew a form, it was as though she was being rebirthed. She felt raw, clumsy, and naked – even shy. This was incredibly vulnerable, she knew. This was _her._

It was then that he appeared as well, brushing against her cautiously. She shuddered at this burst of feeling and life, but she recognized him like the back of her hand and didn’t pull away. Like an embrace, he continued to blanket and press against her, until she could hardly breathe and then, they merged.

His world was structured and layered – a shifting, dynamic labyrinth that would put Daedalus to shame. Perhaps recognizable to a Vulcan, but overwhelming to Amanda. Constantly shifting and building with an intricacy and elegance that embodied Sarek. His mind was always functioning – evolving – to systematically yet instinctively arrange his thoughts, emotions, and urges. It would take her whole life span to even attempt to go through it all.

Sarek guided her without hesitation through the maze of his mind – she brushed by it all: anger, sadness, guilt, fear. But he led her to the part of him that she had wanted to see.

He pulsed here; warm and bright and _passionate._ Like a katra stone. A fire. A star. A heart.

At his soft nudges, she was coaxed into falling in.

The part he showed belonged to _her._ All the times he felt confusion, worry, and fear because of her. The kiss, the crash, the attack. In those moments, these feelings were not allowed to be surfaced, addressed, or even recognized. For they came here, unconsciously yet inevitably. Every memory, thought, and feeling he had tucked away to visit later.

Even now, in their forms, he thought her beautiful.

There was also a warm, vibrant feeling that she couldn’t place a name to. It was _powerful_ and greater than anything she’s felt from him. It had grown, and he couldn’t ignore it no longer.

His consciousness whispered across hers, and he called it _cherish_.

_Talukh nash-veh k’dular. I cherish thee._

It was not identical to the love she felt – the sweet ache and bursting that she felt. The chaos and burning among fluttering and song.

What he felt was strangely tangible, almost alive. It was like a plant had taken root, and its tendrils flowed out obtrusively into all of the aspects of his katra. He was careful, she knew. Organized. Yet this was uncontained. It was a reverence and a loyalty.

But for the both of them, it could’ve been one and the same in regard to their passion and force. Even, now they seeped and melded into each other.

Lastly, she felt his desire, a burning thing that made his blood heat like the Eridani star. Even now, he had it in a tight control and tucked away.

But Amanda has a curious nature, and she stroked against it – and his control chipped away. And, abruptly, desire became pleasure.

They truly became one, and he knew her as much as she knew herself. His and hers katras were all around them in every mindscape – it was the force and drive that held all their thoughts and emotions together. She didn’t know where she ended and he began, and frankly, she was just fine with that.

* * *

Reality hit her like a splash of ice water. In a surreal moment, Amanda didn’t know if she was herself or where she was. As her mind reeled and snapped into its normal form, she began to gain awareness of her senses.

First, she felt Sarek. He had suddenly broken the link between their minds, and his hands slacked against her face. It was easy, then, for their foreheads to touch. He was as out of breath as she was, and his breath softly blew against her face. Amanda didn’t know exactly when, but at some point, during their meld, she had held onto his arm as well. She held onto him even as his hand fell from her face to her neck.

With their foreheads together, Amanda could clearly see in his eyes Sarek collecting his emotions that had spilled over. He fared at this better than she did, and she focused on catching her breath. Yet nothing could stop the flush in her cheeks from going away, and she could see his skin tinged green as well.

It was then, that she became aware of the computer blaring through the comms system.

“ _Arriving to Vulcan in fifty-nine minutes. Pilot is needed at main console. Arriving to Vulcan in fifty-nine minutes…”_

It kept repeating, and Amanda knew why he broke the hold. They only had an hour left? They’ve been in the meld for hours.

Her cheeks warmed again at the thought, at the feelings that have overtaken her.

Sarek, however, had managed to calm down considerably. It was like a switch had gone off in him. He gingerly leaned back, taking her hands in his own. His voice was impossibly steady, even now. “Do you understand?”

Amanda nodded, not trusting her voice.

“I will attend to the console. Please, take your time.”

He left, and Amanda figured he needed time to collect himself as well.

She exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to her forehead. She felt _warm_ like she was buzzing. A smile was bursting, and she pressed a palm over her mouth as she muffled her laugh. Was this normal? This euphoria? It was as though love had escaped as well.

It took some time for her to calm down. It helped to stare out at the warp field, and beat by beat, her heart slowed until she could think and breathe clearly. Her heated skin cooled. She inhaled and exhaled, and her grin had faded into something more natural and her.

It was then, that she went downstairs.

Sarek was sitting at the console, towards. It seemed he had finished whatever the computer required of him, his hands lying on the armrest.

When she stood in front of his seat, she saw that his eyes were closed. He was meditating.

But when she stilled, Sarek opened his eyes, and she could see his tranquility and calm.

Unlike before on Mount Seleya, when Amanda had tentatively brushed her lips against his, she leaned down with conviction.

He was solid and warm, and so was his kiss. Not excessive or indulgent, but with some control and restraint. Yet his hand brushing her jaw was tender and sweet.

Sarek likely felt her acceptance and decision, but she still broke the kiss, once more resting her forehead against his.

“Yes,” Amanda breathed, laughing as she sees him softly smile for the first time. “ _Yes.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW it finally happened. I'm ugly crying for my babies, so please let me know what you guys think!
> 
> Sarek certainly had to convince her, and, you know, they both really don't know what will happen to them after their marriage - especially after such a harmful attack. But its something that they endure together! It is a recurring theme in my ~next~ series to this story.
> 
> Also I did just start my last year of college (aha), so my posting time will be a bit chaotic. I am finished with the story (it actually took me only one month to write this story way back in May so it has been done for a while), but I do take time to edit/change the chapter the week I post it, so that does take time! But don't worry, I'll only take 1-2 weeks to post a chapter! Hope everyone is well!


	18. Determinism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amanda's dress: https://pin.it/2LNRhE8  
> https://pin.it/42xzY9s

_Determinism is the philosophical view that all events are determined completely by previously existing causes. The universe has one past, but it also has only one future - the only possible future._

* * *

“Please be careful,” called out Amanda, frowning as she stared after the Vulcan workers. They were able to carry much heavier boxes than she ever could, but she didn’t like how they easily threw them around. “That box is labelled ‘fragile’ for a reason.”

Not for the first time, she wondered if Vulcans purposefully try to aggravate her just for kicks. They certainly seemed amused by her ‘illogical’ fussing over her methodology in packing. But these weren’t hers, but Aisha’s. Her friends hardly had any time to unload after they had landed in Shi’Kahr, and their things had simply been thrown back into their old apartments. Most of their stuff were still in boxes – still waiting for their owners to unpack.

In the past six days since Sarek and she arrived on Vulcan, Amanda had spent almost all of her time in her old apartment packing up her friends’ remaining belongings. She only returned to D’H’riset to sleep in the guest bedroom at Sarek’s offer.

T’Pille gracefully appeared at the doorway to her apartment. “I recommend we return to the cruiser in three minutes if we are to be on schedule.”

This Vulcan had been Amanda’s rock since her return. T'Pille had appeared the morning after their arrival as her guard (courtesy of Sarek) and furthermore offered to assist Amanda in overseeing the packing. Frankly, Amanda had seen T’Pille almost every hour of her waking day, while she had only seen Sarek twice since their landing.

* * *

**_Four days ago_ **

When T’Pille had insisted once again on staying in the apartment to unnecessarily reorganize perfectly fine boxes, Amanda finally approached the topic.

“Just curious, but is Sarek avoiding me?”

T’Pille was stacking books in boxes when Amanda spoke, and the Vulcan paused before meeting Amanda’s curious expression. “Why do you ask that?”

“I don’t know – I haven’t seen him in a while, which is fine. He is a busy person. But I’m getting the feeling that I am missing something and that you guys are in some pact.”

“I have only spoken to him when he made me aware of your return and requested me to guard you in the city. He had also requested that I impart to you the protocols of the _kal’i’farr_ , or the marriage ceremony. However, while he has not explicitly stated he is doing so, it is likely yes, he is avoiding you.”

Amanda remained impassive. “May I ask why?”

“Although he is your betrothed, it is still considered to be rather inappropriate for two unbonded individuals to remain together unchaperoned.”

“We’ve already traveled together.”

“It is different. You, before, were an outsider to our ways and were not expected to follow our customs. But by accepting his proposal, you have accepted our ways as well. Thus, the standards have changed.” T’Pille hesitated. “Although the Ambassador and I did not speak plainly about it, there was an understanding that the two of you should not remain together alone. I suppose then, yes, we are in a pact as you say.”

Amanda rolled her eyes as she closed a box’s lid. “I don’t know why he had to be so vague about it.”

“There is a common agreement among Vulcan females. Not to generalize, but males seem to have the hardest in speaking plainly.”

She laughed at that. Sarek was definitely a kind of person who spoke about things on a need-to-know basis.

“So, do you know what he has been up to?”

T’PIlle considered this. “I am not aware. But it is custom for a betrothal that the male makes the arrangements. He may choose to seek out advice or acceptance from his ancestors using the katra stones or from his living relatives. It is likely as well he will speak to the High Priestesses and the High Council due to his family’s status.”

Just thinking about how they would perceive Amanda and Sarek’s relationship made her quite anxious. Amanda did not question his affection for her, but she also did not doubt his loyalty to his people. So, she approached her nerves like a Vulcan and shoved it to the back of her mind. Instead, she had asked T’Pille to begin teaching her the steps for the marriage ceremony.

* * *

Amanda stood in front of an empty apartment. She could still see a maroon stain on the carpet from with Joran spilt his drink. A chip by the door from the countless times the boys would burst in and cause the knob to bang in the door.

She gently closed the door for the last time and turned to T’Pille. “Okay, I’m ready.”

* * *

**_Two days ago_ **

Amanda did eventually see Sarek (with T’Pille chaperoning them, of course) during dinner. They were sitting outside due to her suggestion while Sarek mainly spoke of plans and arrangements. Typically, only the immediate family attended the ceremony and then a larger celebration occurred afterwards. They both preferred and agreed to have a small ceremony – just them two. After everything that had happen, it felt too soon and draining for a large celebration. Frankly, Amanda was simply looking forward to just being alone with Sarek.

But when Amanda had brought up the matter of clothing, he simply had responded with a ‘whatever suits you’ before promptly moving on to location.

Even T’Pille seemed to consider this as an unsatisfactory answer and had glanced at Amanda, who stared at the oblivious Sarek in disbelief.

The closest thing Amanda had to a wedding dress was the ivory slip she had worn to his mother’s Ha’vik Sadalaya, and she doubted that would be appropriate at all. Amanda also had a pale-yellow gown that could be passable. She would hardly believe that Sarek himself didn’t pay attention to his own clothing – his day clothing wasn’t exactly what she considered ‘simple.’

So, she did what she always did when Sarek was being insufficient: she asked T’Pille.

The Vulcan explained for her own ceremony, she had worn a formal gown. There were no customs regarding color, except that, in general, dark green – the color of Vulcan blood – is considered to be a passionate and sensual color and is thus rarely worn in public. Silver, however, is relatively common although not necessarily expected. Hair was typically elaborately braided. Jewelry minimal. For the ceremony, gloves are also worn.

The main concern Amanda had was one that T’Pille couldn’t answer. She could wear her human yellow dress – it was elegant, modest and more than passable for a Vulcan wedding. Amanda really did think it lovely, and she knew Sarek would believe it to be ‘sufficient.’ Or she could wear a Vulcan gown as a first step into his culture. 

She was reading far too in depth than any Vulcan would’ve – but she was a human after all. A human woman about to have her own wedding. And the dress certainly mattered to her.

During her six months on Vulcan, she had refrained from wearing Vulcan clothing. She was a visitor and an admirer of their culture, but she had felt it would be strange for her to just put on their clothes. Clothing was tied to Vulcan culture and history – and it wasn’t hers. Most Vulcans probably would not care if she did. Their clothing, after all, was designed for the heat and would be considered better suited for comfort. But it was a subtle line that she had drawn for herself in the beginning.

But now, as T’Pille had explained, the standards have changed.

Amanda had already asked what he expected of her as a wife, but now, she had to decide what kind of wife she was going to be. The dress she wore, she felt, would symbolize that.

That night after the dinner, when she could hardly sleep due to these thoughts running through her head, she threw off her covers. She lightly padded through the halls up to the top floor. Praying that Sarek was asleep and that his hearing wouldn’t allow him to hear her quiet steps, she slipped into the room beside his.

Amanda spent the night touching generations of clothing belonging to members of his ancestors and family. There was extravagance, opulence, and grace.

What kind of wife will she be?

The next morning, T’Pille had nodded at her choice, satisfied. She took Amanda to a tailor to make necessary adjustments, and there, Amanda also had picked a simple white underlay gown to wear underneath.

* * *

And today, Amanda stood alone in front of a floor-length mirror. She took a deep breath and stared at her reflection.

The dress was not as luxurious as most of the options in the room were, or even compared to Vulcan wedding gowns she has seen at the tailors. Indeed, she doubted the tailor even suspected this to be a wedding gown. It was slim fitting and had no great trail or elaborate embroidery. A soft, dusty blue, its long sleeves and collared neckline were lined with simple yet intricate Vulcan designs. The collar framed her neckline but did not close in the front, instead allowing a modest V to show hints of her collarbone. Her white gown was only visible at the bottom skirts beneath the pale blue layer.

Her hair was down, rather than a traditional Vulcan braid. Neat and deliberate waves shined from the oils T’Pille had given her to wash in. Her glossy brown strands ended a couple inches beneath her shoulders in a neat curl. She slowly tucked her hair behind her ear.

Her expression matched what she felt inside. Calm and collected. Her heart was remarkably steady and slow, and she felt little of the nerves she had experienced the past few days. From her disposition alone, she could pass as a Vulcan.

A knock on the door caught attention away. “Come in.”

T’Pille entered and calculatingly took in Amanda.

Amanda spread her arms out and raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

In a surprisingly kind gesture, T’Pille swiftly swept a few locks of Amanda’s hair over her shoulder to frame her face. “It is suitable.”

T’Pille held up a small box. “Ambassador Sarek has requested I give this to you.”

Amanda took it in her hands and carefully opened it. She gently picked up the dainty chain, allowing the blue stone pendant to glint in Eridani’s light.

Amanda exhaled the breath she was holding, a small smile slipping through. “It’s T’Lara’s.”

“Would you like to put it on?”

She offered it to T’Pille. “Do you mind?”

T’Pille promptly placed it around Amanda’s neck and locked the clasp. She fixed Amanda’s hair, and then stepped back as they both took a look at her in the mirror.

In a completely levelled tone, Amanda simply said, “Holy shit.”

T’Pille raised an eyebrow, but before she could respond, another knock came from her bedroom door. The two women exchanged a short glance. Before Amanda could contemplate who it was, T’Pille had already swiftly walked over and opened the door.

T’Pille bowed without skipping a beat. “Minister T’Pau.”

* * *

**_One day ago_ **

The doors to Sarek’s office were made of thin, paper-like material that allowed light to naturally stream through. Although it was well into the middle of the night, the soft glow of a lamp emitted from within.

Amanda allowed herself one single second before knocking lightly on the wooden frame.

“Open.”

Resisting the urge to laugh, Amanda slid the door open and stopped at the doorframe.

His office was unsurprisingly… sparse. One whole wall was open to a balcony – a balcony she vaguely knew was shared by Sarek’s bedroom. The windows offered a wide view of the night’s twinkling sky. The room was wide and spacious, yet there was only a hulking desk that seemed more like a piece of art than furniture. Made from an unfamiliar russet stone, it appeared modern but at the same time incredibly old.

Sarek sat behind this great desk. His hands were laced in front of him and pressed against his mouth. His eyes briefly took in her form. It wasn’t much, she admitted, as she had just rolled out of a restless sleep – loose pants, a tank top, and a long cardigan.

He tilted his head, just barely. “Is all well?”

“Yes.” She gestured to enter, raising an eyebrow almost challengingly.

Sarek seemed to pick up the hint. “I am uncertain if us being together the night before a wedding is acceptable – in both cultures.”

“Well,” she said placatingly, as she walked forward up to his desk. “I promise I’ll restrain myself from stealing your virtue.”

“I am grateful.”

Amanda lightly laughed before looking around. “You really don’t have any other chairs in this big house?”

“I suppose human custom dictates I offer you my seat.”

She snorted lightly, as she leaned back against the edge of his desk. She half-sat, half-leaned on the marble, as she crossed her arms absentmindedly. “This will do. Are you working?”

“Yes. A few last adjustments before I officially relinquish my role as Ambassador for Earth.”

“Would you like me to leave?”

It was an honest question with no malice, but she can see Sarek’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, as he attempted to ascertain the correct response. Amanda wondered if this would change – after the bond, would he simply just pluck the meaning from her mind?

“No,” he said evenly. “It is tedious doings, but not crucial.”

Amanda hummed, looking out towards the window in a pensive manner.

“You come with a thought,” stated Sarek. “In a time that you should be asleep in preparation for tomorrow. I am interested to hear it.”

She turned her head to him, and after considering him for a moment, she held her hand out.

Sarek carefully placed his hand in hers, as if in a handshake. It was painfully formal, and the lengths Sarek took to maintain propriety brought a small smile to her face.

It was then that she asked, “Do you think we are going too fast?”

“No.” Amanda had long noticed that when he was thinking quickly, he would slowly blink. Most humans would have to look away – away from eye contact – to think clearly, but Sarek would pin one down with his gaze, as if pulling the answers straight from their mind. In this case, it was hers. “Do you?”

“No.” She frowned. “But somehow, that is more concerning.”

“Clarify.”

She ran her free hand through her hair. “Well, it’s just we only really addressed our feelings to each other five days ago and that somehow culminated into _marriage_.” Amanda lightly swung their hands, as if they were children. “Isn’t that strange? We only ever kissed twice and – and I don’t know.”

Sarek stared at her, his free hand still pressed against his mouth thoughtfully. As if he had just come up with a grand treaty that would unite worlds, Sarek slowly nodded and stood up.

Still holding her hand, he walked around his desk to where she was perched on the desk, and she sighed, as he stopped purposely in front of her. Amanda refrained from chuckling, as he leaned down and gave her a rather chaste kiss on the mouth.

He pulled back a few inches. “Is that sufficient?”

With a straight face, she said, “Well, typically four kisses are the threshold for marriage.”

This time, Amanda pulled him in and deepened the kiss. It was slow, unhurried, and utterly… human. It was only when he gently unwrapped her arm from around his neck that she pulled back and exhaled.

“But I’m serious,” she said, a little flustered. He seemed to be somewhat affected as well, based on the tint of his cheeks. She let go of his hand for both of their sanities. “I am just not sure of the rush.”

“Your concern is valid, but unnecessary. There is no reason to prolong what we are already certain of.”

“But there’s still a lot that you don’t know about me, and a lot I don’t know about you.”

“Does that matter?” he asked, his dark eyes grazing across her face.

“It might.” She tilted her head. “There will be a lot of firsts in this marriage then. First time living together. First time being a Federation Ambassador. First _fights_.”

“Many Vulcans don’t even truly meet their bondmates until the wedding ceremony. I may not know all the details of your life, but what I do know about you is more than enough.”

“What if I drive you mad?” she asked bluntly. “What if this bond is more harm than good for either of us? And don’t humans smell to Vulcans – do I smell _bad_ to you? And – ” His eyes glanced purposely away to the side, and there was a tightness in his mouth that made her eyes narrow. “And are you _laughing_ at me?”

Immediately, his eyes snapped back to hers, as impassive as before. “I do not laugh.”

“In the literal sense, perhaps, but you were definitely _amused_.”

“Your concerns are… unique. I will start with the latter – in short, no. I find you smell overall quite pleasant. It is only Vulcan females who have a heightened sense of smell, which is a biological trait remnant of a time during sexual competitions among my people. Even then, to say humans smell bad is an exaggeration. Most of those early accounts came from female Vulcans who had to reside with humans - who were mainly males - in a spaceship, which relied on cycled air that allowed little reprieve unlike an atmosphere.”

His voice dropped, and his eyes were steady. “I do, however, find your other concerns rather serious. I am familiar with bonds, as are most Vulcans, yet I understand you may feel apprehension towards the thought. But I assure you that both you and I will remain sound in mind. A bond is not a relinquish of self. You will be able to exist beyond it, as it only ties us together. It simply creates a bridge between you – ” She thought he would tap her temple, but his hand hovered a centimeter above her skin. “– and me,” he concluded, his hand stopping at his temple.

Amanda hummed, sighing. “It sounds nice.”

“I want to share one with you,” Sarek said simply. “I admit while I find the notion of ‘husband’ and ‘wife’ pleasing, it is the bond that is ultimately what the marriage represents. It is what I truly seek. But _only_ if you are comfortable with it and want it as well.”

Amanda took a risk and pushed off of the desk. She took a small step forward and wrapped her arms around Sarek’s torso. Her cheek rested his chest, right where a human’s heart would be. But she heard only his steady breathing, as he tentatively held her in this embrace.

“Okay,” she said simply. 

* * *

All Amanda could think of was how damn grateful she felt for cleaning up her bedroom this morning.

Minister T’Pau was as formidable as she was on the screen from the proceedings. Amanda’s sole interaction with her was during T’Lara’s _Ha’vik Sadalaya_ , and it composed of a single, calculating glance as Amanda entered the crypt. With greying hair and sharp, black eyes, Minister T’Pau’s presence was enough to intimidate a Vulcan.

Not even letting herself blink, Amanda bowed as well. “Minister T’Pau. I am fortunate to formally make your acquaintance.”

The elder Vulcan’s voice was brittle yet sturdy. “Ambassador Sarek has instructed me on your location. I am requesting your audience.”

“Of course.”

T’Pille excused herself and soon, it was just Amanda and T’Pau.

Amanda paused for a split second before gesturing at the seating area. “Would you like to sit?”

T’Pau nodded, and the two sat on the chairs. Her black eyes fell on the pendant on Amanda’s neck, and Amanda resisted the urge to shift. Amanda was very conscious about sitting as straight as the elder and controlling her expression.

The minister spoke concisely and intensely. “I first will say it shames me that during my time on the High Command, another baseless attack occurred. I was informed that you had lost your colleagues, and for that, I offer my condolences.”

“They were my friends,” Amanda softly corrected. T’Pau didn’t blink. “But I thank you.”

The elder Vulcan nodded. “Now, I had come here to assess this situation _S’chn T’gai Sarek_ and you, an outworlder, have come with.”

“Did Sarek not speak with the High Council’s elders a few days ago?”

“Indeed, but he had requested that I officiate the bond. He had to make his case, and now, you must make yours.”

Amanda raised an eyebrow. “Alright.”

“For _S’chn T’gai Sarek,_ I had initially assumed that this was a ‘fixation’ – as Minister Valkh had called it – with your people. It is not unusual for a Vulcan to forget oneself when interested in a certain topic, or in this case, race. I believed Sarek had been intrigued with your kind, and then you. To judge the validity of his intent, I mind-melded with him to see his thoughts.”

Forcing herself to breathe evenly, Amanda responded, “Surely, if you entered his mind, you have seen that I am not just some pet or experiment. I assure you – I would not have accepted his proposal if that were the case.”

“Yes. But what I found was even more of a concern.”

“How so?”

“An idea is a seed – small, harmless, but it digs its roots in deep. This idea of ‘love’, as you call it, will unravel him.”

Amanda’s hand had clenched into a fist so tight that it left marks on her palm. She forced herself to flex her hand open. “It is not love – not like humans’. It’s – ” Amanda paused “- It’s _talukh_. Cherish. A Vulcan emotion. And Sarek would not let it or even me overcome who he is.”

“Sarek is exceptionally disciplined, more so than most Vulcans,” T’Pau agreed. “Yet even the smallest seed can grow roots strong enough to break marble. I believe you and Sarek’s relationship will destabilize my people. In Sarek’s mind, I saw that he believes the opposite – it will strengthen our ties to your planet. But he does not factor in our longer lives into this. My people are slow to change, and your life and impact will be swift in comparison. You are only human, and your unrestrained emotions and wishes will wear his defenses down. Furthermore, you do not understand the status and symbol he holds as Ambassador and the _S’chn T’gai_ heir.”

Amanda felt her cheeks flush. “I am at a disagreement with you. I believe you are mistaken, Minister, if you assume that I will just sit in this big house and play dress up as the Ambassador’s wife. I do intend to do more – _be_ more. It is a mistake to assume that I will not even try myself to uphold and respect Vulcan customs myself – much less let Sarek lose a vital part of his being.” She forced herself to keep her tone levelled. “Lastly, as a _human_ , I ask you not to assume that love makes my people weak. I may feel strongly, and I may love, but it gives me more strength for the many sacrifices that I will make for him than logic ever well.”

T’Pau didn’t hesitate. “What sacrifices?”

Amanda’s voice was soft but firm. “My home world and the people in it. My way of life. I will be his wife, and I will represent Vulcan customs. And – ” Her hand rested on her necklace. “And if we were to have children, I will raise them the Vulcan way.”

“Many sacrifices. Many future regrets.”

“No,” Amanda said evenly. “I am not one to delude myself, Minister. I make these choices for myself, and I did not make these lightly. It is sacrifice, but it is also what I want myself. This comes from my great admiration for your culture. And I know this will become more than me – more than him. It will be for Vulcans. Humans. _My children_.”

The heavy silence that fell afterwards made her want to scream, especially with her heart racing like it did now. But she lowered her shoulders and smoothly looked towards the minister. T’Pau unblinkingly considered her for a solid minute.

“It is only inevitable that a time had come for the joining of our people. I still am wary about the consequences we will all face from this match. However, I believe we can so far be fortunate that it is you, Amanda Grayson, and _S’chn T’gai Sarek_. Thus, I can only urge you to prepare yourself.”

The elder Vulcan stood up with a grace that could only come with time.

Amanda joined as well. “Before she passed, T’Lara told me to thrive in this world, I must learn to set my feelings aside for the good of the many.”

T’Pau nodded solemnly. “She speaks truth. I thank you for speaking with me.”

“I thank you as well, Minister.”

As soon as the door shut behind the minister, Amanda paced the room anxiously. She straightened out the fabric of her dress.

Her heart was racing terribly, but Minister T'Pau was what Amanda needed. Amanda reflected on her words – the passion and truth behind them. It surprised her, as much of what she said had never been put into words until now. Especially about children. It was something that lingered at the back of her mind and she was too afraid to confront. But now she knew. Her hands tingled at the thought.

It made one aspect of her future with Sarek less uncertain. And it was more than enough.

Amanda slowly walked to a shelf and took out a pair of ivory satin gloves. She walked over to the mirror once more. She slipped on the gloves and clasped her hands together in front of her stomach. Shoulders down, chin high. She looked into her eyes until she saw strength and calm.

T’Pille entered the room and did not comment on T’Pau’s visit. Instead, she simply said, “It is time.”

By the time they stepped out of _D’H’riset_ , the Eridani was in the lower half of the sky. An entourage of ceremonials clad in white awaited the two of them. She saw no admiration, nor judgement. Their inscrutable gazes did not intimidate her, like it would’ve once long ago. T’Pille guided her to the same stone stairwell that led to Mount Seleya, but before they began their ascent, T’Pille pulled out her ivory scarf from Raal.

“I had assumed this will help you.”

Overcome with gratitude, Amanda only nodded. T’Pille gently and loosely wrapped it over her hair and across her chest, taking care not to disturb her hair. Now protected from the Eridani’s rays, Amanda followed T’Pille as she took her first step.

The journey up Seleya was a long one, but not impossible. The star was low in the sky and was not the main cause of concern. It was the hundreds of steps she had to climb to meet her betrothed that would threaten her strength.

But after her meeting with Minister T’Pau, these stairs would _not_ be her downfall.

Amanda moved slow but steady, not allowing herself to feel any embarrassment for holding everybody back. It was expected, of course, which is why they planned to start the ascent earlier than most ceremonies would have. It is customary that the male leaves before the female, so Sarek was en route as well.

Her mind was kept clear by the single bell she could hear rolling over the slope of the mountain. Not the one being rung by her entourage, but by Sarek’s. Amanda hadn’t asked T’Pille what the bells represented, but it comforted her knowing that he walked the same steps that she was walking now.

Amanda and her entourage managed to arrive at the cliff just barely earlier than scheduled. They were hundreds of feet up from the ground, and a stone bridge awaited her to cross over to the alter that was at the end. The alter had pillars of stone, and the bridge was too far for her to see anybody clearly.

Amanda fanned her face as she perched on a boulder. It probably wasn’t customary for a bride to just sit before her marriage ceremony, as seen by the ceremonials’ glances – but she figured it was better to do this than enter looking like a sweaty, flushed thing.

T’Pille unwrapped Amanda's scarf and fixed and fluffed her hair out. To Amanda’s amusement, T’Pille used the scarf to pat Amanda’s face to rid of the thin layer of sweat. It helped cool her down, and the temperature was beginning to drop into comfortable levels.

“The Eridani is about to begin setting,” informed T’Pille, as she straightened and draped her scarf across her arm. “Are you well?”

Amanda offered a smile and stood. “I am a human about to marry a Vulcan and become a part of his world – who’s people may not want me back. But I’m more than ready.”

T’Pille considered her, but not unkindly. Indeed, her voice was gentle as she spoke honestly, “I, for one, believe you will be a fortunate addition to the Vulcan people. I am glad that you are joining the _S’chn T’gai_ clan – my clan.”

Amanda stared, her hand freezing. “You’re related to Sarek?”

“No, but I am bonded to his brother.”

Before Amanda could even fully process that, the sound of a gong reverberated throughout the whole valley.

T’Pille bowed. “Live long and prosper, T’sai Amanda.”

Amanda took a deep breath and fell behind the leading ceremonial while the others lined up on either side of her. They each carried a bell of varying sizes, and at some unheard signal, all the bells rang simultaneously to form a single peel of song. As was custom, all of the ceremonials who escorted her were males, and they sang and chanted in deep, rich voices as they began to walk forward. She could begin to faintly make out the higher, sweeter song of the females that accompanied Sarek and currently waited across the bridge.

She focused on the sky instead of the ground far below them. Amanda let the song hum in her bones and the peel of the bells ring in her chest. The Eridani was washing them all in a warm, orange glow as it began to set. Amanda had long fallen in love with this star, and it warmed her to think about the years she’ll have to see it.

So, focused she was, Amanda didn’t notice Sarek until he was right in front of her.

A part of her wanted to laugh. Despite her best attempt on Vulcan attire, her pale, dusty blue gown clashed terribly with Sarek’s austere, russet red robes. It suited his taller frame, making him appear as sturdy and strong as the mountains around him. Its trims were embroidered elegantly with silver thread, and perhaps, Amanda thought much too late, she should have heeded T’Pille’s words about a silver dress. But the greater part of her was at an agreement of how lovely he looked.

After his eyes swept over her form, Sarek stoically extended his index and middle finger. Amanda accepted mirrored this with her gloved hand and met him – just as T’Pille had told her to.

The slow, heavy reverberation of the drums abruptly changed into continuous, quick, and short hits. It jolted her, and she almost forgot to move until Sarek stepped away, still connected to her hand.

It was custom for the two to walk around the perimeter of the circular alter. They were to walk slowly, hands linked, as it symbolized a continuous journey that they were about to take together. Do not break the circle, or it will bring an abrupt end to your union, T’Pille had ominously warned.

So focused was Amanda on the ground in front of her, that she did not realize she was frowning until Sarek just barely bent his head down. Mouth hardly moving, he asked, “Is there something amiss?”

Amanda glanced at him and quickly glanced away when she saw he was staring straight ahead. Remembering the countless of rules – though she was certain not speaking was one – she hid a smile and dropped her voice. “No.” Her eyes narrowed, as a thought came to mind. “Well, actually,” she whispered. “I have a question.”

“Yes?”

They were halfway around the circle, and under the ever-acute gazes of the Vulcans, she tried not to make their discussion obvious. “You have a _brother_?”

“Yes. Silek.”

“How –” She snuck a glance. “I had never met or heard of him before.”

“I am certain you must have seen him. He was the person to say his farewells to my mother right before myself. He is T’Pille’s bondmate.”

They were reaching the end of their circle, and they both began to speak faster in whispers.

“Well, I know that _now._ And you never mentioned him before because?”

“There was no reason to before.”

Amanda was faintly exasperated, faintly amused.

His whispers became rushed. “I have four first cousins, seven second cousins, and that is only on my father’s side – ”

“Any other siblings I should know about?”

Sarek opened his mouth, but a grave, echoing voice pointedly cut across. “It is time for the final call.”

They fell silent. Now where they started, they walked forward together to the large, gleaming gong awaiting at the center. They stepped onto the raised, stone platform, where T’Pau stood as well.

Sarek let go, picked up a large mallet, and gave Amanda a measured look. “If you have any reservations, now is the time.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Noted.”

He struck the gong with a swift, easy swing and placed the mallet down.

“T’sai Amanda, you may call for Osu Sarek,” informed T’Pau.

Amanda gripped the mallet’s handle but quickly found that it was _heavy_. To her utter disbelief, she now realized its round end was made completely of pure metal. With a sigh, she managed to throw it up into her arms with great effort.

She turned politely to Sarek. “If you have any reservations, now is the time.”

A flicker of amusement escaped. “Noted.”

She threw the mallet in a graceless manner, but it succeeded in making a sound as loud – if not louder – as Sarek’s.

“Kneel.”

Amanda settled on the platform a foot across from Sarek. T’Pau’s measured tone demanded a calm over her rapid heartbeat. Yet everytime she met Sarek’s gaze, a smile would threaten to break, and her heart would flutter once more.

Sarek held out his hand, and she placed hers in his. With concise, yet gentle movements, he stripped her hand of her glove. His fingertips skimmed the back of her hand, as they slid into an ozhe’esta.

“It is now that a _tel-tor_ , a bond, will be made. What you are about to see comes down from the time of the beginning, without change. This is the Vulcan heart. This is the Vulcan soul. This is our way.”

With little preamble, T’Pau reached for Sarek's face. Then her other aged, cool hand settled on Amanda’s cheek, like a blessing. 

* * *

The process of making a bond was old, revered, and… quick.

Overwhelming, Amanda thought.

But another part of her – a _new_ part – commented how comparatively easy it was. Some unions can take a long time, and the acclimation even more so.

It hurt to focus with the rate of these foreign thoughts. Because suddenly, she could hardly think – or maybe, she was thinking too much. Feeling too much. Around her, the atmosphere shifted. The light was dull yet bright at the same time. The bells – they rang so loudly.

“Breathe.”

Sarek was perplexed – because her control over her body was heavily emotional. Emotions were so intertwined with her physical being that to affect one was to affect the other. 

She was gripping his hand like a lifeline. But she sat rigidly tense – a head bowed, and eyes shut.

He lifted her chin with his other hand, and it was only then that her eyes fluttered open. “Breathe,” Sarek repeated.

So, Amanda did – in an awkward, stilted way. She didn’t even realize she was lacking in air until the black spots in her vision faded away. Amanda didn’t feel her body at all if being honest – there was only so much her mind could process.

It took time, but eventually, she was able to stand. But it was like she was seeing double. The stimuli reaching her brain were not solely hers, and her mind warred to reconcile the conflicting data.

But she leaned heavily on Sarek’s side, hardly seeing ahead as he guided her away from the alter. They were alone, she finally noticed.

“Focus on one thing,” he told her. She vaguely realized his mouth was not moving. The realization was enough for her mind to flare more haphazardly. _Center your mind._

 _How?_ she asked when they reached the stairs, not even realizing she was not speaking out loud as well. 

They had a long way down, but at the first step, Sarek offered his assistance.

His lips met hers, and the world quieted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! I made a ~series~ ("Juxtapostion") to continue Amanda/Sarek's story. Give it a follow or a bookmark or whichever (honestly not sure how series work) for future installations and updates :) I will likely change the name of the series because I do not like it lollll but it works for now! Also I plan on posting the first chapter for Part 2 when I post A Case Study's ~final chapter~
> 
> Let me know what you guys think - I'm actually so sad this is ending cries


	19. Euneirophrenia

_Euneirophrenia - the peaceful state of mind after a pleasant dream._

* * *

The house was incredibly still as Sarek led Amanda through its dark, winding halls. More accurately, it was too quiet compared to the raw, pulsing bond linking the two. Her skin felt cool beneath his warmer skin, and he experimentally brushed his thumb over the back of her hand as he guided her. A sudden swell arose, doing little to abate the flooding of emotions and thoughts he felt from Amanda, but the first days after the formation of the bond were the most crucial. It reminded Sarek that he needed to lower his walls as well, something he has not done in a long time.

Although Amanda spoke little since the ceremony, he knew – _felt_ – that she was in the process of acclimating to a new environment in her mind. Sarek could feel her loud concern, curiosity, nervousness. The new pull between them shifted their original mindsets to something different – a constant brush against his mind. It was admittedly disjointing, but Sarek had spent years mastering how to process and navigate the mindscape. He grew up most of his childhood with a bond connecting him to another and had quickly learned how to function with it.

From his only experiencing melding with Amanda back on his cruiser and even now through their bond, he learned that humans’ minds were unrestrained in power, if not blinding. It had no precise form – instead it was constantly shifting and fluttering and adapting. It was like a small bird made of warmth and light.

 _Cheesy_.

The thought entered his head unbiddenly. He glanced back at Amanda, who grimaced.

_Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to hear that._

_It is no matter. In time, I will teach you how to stream what you want through the bond._

Sensing her satisfaction, he opened the door to their bedroom.

Windows surrounded most of the room. Half of the windows acted as doorways that could turn open on its axis and lead to the balcony. The other windows offered a breathtaking view of the Forge and the fading light of dusk. There was a simple large bed with a bench at its foot. In the space in front of the bed was a short, raised platform for meditation that took up much of the room. A long shelf expanded across the sole long wall and contained Vulcan pieces of art he had a preference for. There was a lot of wide space, as Sarek felt the view of the landscape was sufficient enough, and to his pleasure, he felt Amanda’s agreement on that.

While he let Amanda peruse their room, he efficiently began to light the many candles around the room. One by one, they immersed the dark room with a faint glow.

 _How do you feel?_ he asked, opening himself up to her.

Almost immediately, a flood of forming thoughts and emotions burst through the bond, causing the match in his hand to dip momentarily.

“I’m really sorry,” Amanda sighed, her voice piercing the air. “This is difficult.”

“As it should be,” acknowledged Sarek, using his voice as well. She liked his voice, he found. “It takes practice to gain discipline in the mind.”

He finished and turned to see her sitting on the bench. She wore a dress of his ancestors, a simple one, but he thought it quite pleasant and flattering.

Amanda smiled at that. Her brown eyes were bright, as if they were absorbing the candlelight itself.

Sarek carefully sat beside her. “I can offer a first lesson to calm and order your thoughts. It may help for tonight.”

_Yes. Please._

At her permission, his hand found brushed against her cheek before settling on the neural nodes. Sarek closed his eyes as he was caught in her current.

The human subconscious was a rather fascinating thing. They, unlike Vulcans, function quite efficiently without need of any mental training. Their minds learn by need – from education, memory, convenience. But nothing so tangible as Vulcans’. With Amanda’s mindspace suddenly widened and connected to a whole new being, she had lost hold of her center and expanded outwards to fill the space.

Sarek brushed against these spilt-over parts of her mind, nudging her mind to instinctively snap back to its original space. Eventually, she began to understand and managed to rearrange her mind herself. Rather than be a large, spread out cloud, she condensed like a star.

They both opened their eyes.

_How is it?_

Amanda unexpectedly turned her cheek against his hand, her lips brushing against the palm of his hand.

_Much better._

Sarek felt the tip of his ears warm, and he quickly directed his body to cease its sudden increase in adrenaline and to constrict his blood vessels. Ignoring Amanda’s flare of amusement, he lined up his thoughts.

“I am aware that this course of life will not be easy for you,” he started heavily. At an inquisitive brush from Amanda, he mentally reflected on the conversation she had with T’Pau. He had come upon it during the initial formation of the bond forming, and her words still echoed in his mind. _Our children._ “I find myself pleased with your decisions and the grace that accompanied. But I still sense your sadness, which is inevitable for a human who makes many sentimental attachments.”

Sarek carefully held her hand, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “I may not be the human husband that one may desire, and I am aware I will lack in many areas required for human satisfaction. But I intend to make an effort and take great consideration for what you may prefer.”

She leaned in suddenly, and he found her lips quite pleasant, as well as her scent – a mix of Vulcan oils and roses.

He measuredly retreated and took in her pink mouth and flushed cheeks.

“I would like to teach you one more thing, if I may?”

He could sense her trying to probe early to know what it was, but he believed it would be more of a pleasant experience to hide it from her.

Amanda grimaced at that.

“As you have come to discover, Vulcans do ‘kiss’ similar to humans. Yet that type of kiss is associated more with physical pleasure and is only often done in the bedroom. We find more meaning in another form of a kiss, which is only done between _t’hy’la_ ’s.”

Sarek lifted his two fingers and watched Amanda as recognition flitted across her face.

In her mind, she recalled the movement a few days after the attack. It discomforted him to feel the lingering associated pain she had felt during those days.

Yet with a resilience that was characteristically human, Amanda moved past it. Instead, she raised an eyebrow, cocking her head. _We’ve done this before_.

Sarek nodded. “I may not have put it into words as I should have, but I nonetheless assumed you felt the significance of it as I did.”

She raised her fingers as well. When they met, he could feel the bond pulse, satisfied.

Sarek stroked his fingertips down the length of hers and swept across her knuckles. As she did the same, he felt a shiver up his spine. 

He could see a flush rise in her cheeks, but he could sense the question.

“In Standard, the finger embrace,” he answered quietly. “The _ozh’esta_.”

Sarek allowed his mind to take over. Hormones slowly trickled into his bloodstream and elevated his heartrate and circulation. He could sense the moment Amanda became aware of his change in internal state, and saw her face flush even more red. Curious, he attentively studied the emotions seeping from the bond. There was no question that they were both rather _anticipative_ , but he felt something else.

“You are nervous,” Sarek observed, lowering his hand. Her thoughts were like a sandstorm – flurrying around with no direction. Full of questions about proper etiquette for this situation, worry about pushing too hard, nervous about offending him.

His mate tugged on her hair. “That’s typical for humans,” she admitted. “Starting is always the hardest.”

“I suggest disrobing as the first step.”

Amanda laughed at that, and he felt amused as well, though it wasn’t necessarily meant as a jest. But it seemed to relieve some of the anxiousness, as she reached up to his collar. Her knuckle brushed against his neck as she began to unbutton his robe. Her eyes were focused on her fingers and did not meet his curious gaze. “Do Vulcans approach sex logically as well?”

Despite his spike in heartrate, he spoke steadily. “To a certain extent. But there is a point when logic can only do so much. I had thought with humans being rather free in expression that sex came easier to humans.”

“To a certain extent,” repeated Amanda, her brown eyes finally meeting his. Yet they lowered again to the next button. “I suppose it’s because we can’t reach each other’s thoughts or feelings – it can be messy with a lot of second-guessing. Are you not nervous? With Vulcans more restrained about physical affection, I thought it would be strange for you.”

He did not fully understand her reasoning for her nerves, even with access to her thoughts. “It is true we prefer to keep such matters private, and it is not always seen favorably – there are those more extreme who see such pleasures as a sign of weakness. But no, I am not nervous. You are my bondmate.”

He felt a burst of determination before, suddenly, her hands pushed his outer robes off.

“So many layers,” she sighed, looking defeatedly at his under tunic.

Sarek raised his eyebrow, faintly amused. “Only one more.”

Amanda laughed, but he felt her nerves spike up again. Abruptly, she stood with a sudden intent to remove her necklace.

It seemed that humans continued to ‘second-guess’ themselves even when linked to their mates.

He stood and followed her to the long shelf before stopping at a respectful distance. He pressed a silent question into her mind. Sarek believed he could make this easier for the both of them, as his bondmate seemed rather skittish.

Amanda paused and raised her head at that.

 _I am not_ _skittish,_ she projected back at him. But Sarek felt her nervous approval, and so he carefully walked over. It was clear to him that she was unsure how to approach this with him, a Vulcan. So, he had offered to take the lead in this one.

With less than a foot of space between them, he stopped in front of her and studied her garment. Aware of her warm eyes on his face, he looked back as well as he began to unbutton her front as well.

He was unused to undressing another – mates in Vulcan typically discarded their own clothing. When Amanda had started with him, he supposed it was a human custom.

In his head, she quietly confirmed that, though she clarified it was not always the case.

His knuckles brushed over the light blue fabric, over the swell of her breasts. Sarek kept his breathing even, even though he could feel his blood temperature raising. He began to feel restless, surprising him as it was similar to the effects of Pon Farr.

_What is Pon Farr?_

His sudden discomfort made her even more curious, he felt. Sarek preferred not to delve into such a topic now and made an effort to tuck away his experiences in Pon Farr, though it required more mental effort than usual to focus.

_An answer for another time._

It was only his promise through the bond that satisfied her into agreement. Amanda was, after all, also having a difficult time to concentrate. It was new for both of them, to feel such strong emotions rebounding off of one another.

Underneath, Sarek saw Amanda wore another layer herself. A loose, thin shift that draped over her body in such a way that he struggled to not reach out and run his hands through the white fabric. He could fully see her slender neck, the shadow of her collarbones, and her slim shoulders. Her cheeks turned red.

By human standards, Amanda told him through their minds, it was not that immodest.

He silently moved behind her. His fingers skimmed across the back of her neck as he gently moved the weight of her soft waves aside. Sarek focused on removing the necklace, and he was careful to refrain from touching her skin.

But once the necklace slid loose, and Amanda caught it from the front, he could not hold back from brushing his knuckles against the curvature of her spine.

Neither of them had expected that, and he felt her shiver beneath his cool touch.

With great difficulty, Sarek spoke out loud, his voice strained. He felt shame at his lack of control. “I believe I have reached the extent of my logic.”

Amanda gently placed her necklace on the shelf in front of her before turning to face him. He had schooled his expression, but he flexed his hands. When triggered, a heated Vulcan is hard to restrain.

It was her smile that was debilitating.

“Almost there,” she teased.

At the press of her hand against his chest, this time, he followed her lead. He walked backwards before sitting on the edge of the bed. With her standing between his legs, Sarek breathed in and out deeply. Just a breadth away, her human heat was _tantalizing_ , painfully so _._ He could feel it on his skin and smell her sweet fragrance. With logical thought hanging by a thread, he did not understand her reason for stretching this out. But she wasn’t nervous or afraid anymore. Rather, he felt her calm and restraint that anchored him. For once, their roles reversed.

Amanda took great care to avoid touching him as she removed his tunic. The soft fabric brushed his face before ending up on the ground.

Sarek felt no apprehension at being so bare, but he took satisfaction from her approval and desire. He then felt a new shift in her emotions, and he knew what she was looking at from the direction of her gaze.

At her questioning, Sarek nodded.

Her warm hand rested against the scar tissue below his collarbone. It had the faintest tint of green and spanned the width of her palm. For a moment, they remembered together their time in his broken cruiser.

His skin humming, Sarek rested his hand over hers, his two fingers skimming hers in an _ozh’esta_.

 _Ashayam_. He whispered the word like a confession.

Their lips met, and her body slotted against his.

In an effort as instinctual as breathing, he took her expectations from her mind and learned the human way of pleasure. Ever the quick learner, he implemented them. Slowly – skillfully, he winded her up until they could hardly breathe from the sensations. She and he shared pleasure and desire, forever linked.

The bond between them pulsed with light.

* * *

Before Amanda even opened her eyes, she knew her husband was not beside her. She would’ve thought the bond wasn’t even there if it wasn’t for the faint, yet constant brush at the back of her mind. Part of her was grateful to have her mind to herself. A larger part of her was disappointed.

Lying on her stomach and cheek pressed against a silk pillow, her eyes fluttered open to see the empty space beside her. She squashed down her negative emotions, knowing that she was being unfair to hold Sarek to human standards.

Instead, Amanda allowed herself to smile at the memory of last night. Her hair brushed against her cheeks as she did so, as it was spilled out all around her head. Even from the fragmented thoughts she got from him last night, his experience was quite different with a human than with a Vulcan. Humans, it seemed, worked their way up to their pleasure rather than just get the deed done. Her husband certainly put in the effort.

She peeked through her strands to see that it was early morning, and soft orange light streamed into every corner of the room. Her curled fingers rested beside her eyes. Her bare back felt the warmth of the Eridani's rays, and she felt contentment seep into her bones.

The sheets slid against her skin as she lightly turned over onto her back, pulling up the blanket to cover her chest. She exhaled, her breath blowing at the strands in her face. Her hand brushed her hair back, and she stared at the ceiling.

Amanda focused on the faint presence in her mind and began to purposely brush against it. It wasn’t that it was far away, she realized. Just cut off – blocked.

Slowly, she propped herself up on one elbow and looked past the bed.

Sarek knelt on the meditation platform facing the window. She could only see his side profile, which was washed with shadows as the Eridani slowly rose behind him. He was fully dressed in new robes – a simple, dark red set – and his hair was neatly combed.

His closed eyes suddenly opened at her movement, and his head turned to her.

At the intensity of Sarek’s dark gaze, Amanda suddenly – illogically – felt embarrassed. Her hand automatically pressed on the blanket against her chest. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

It was hard to clearly see with the Eridani blinding her, but she thought he almost looked amused. But when he stood and walked over to the bed, she saw he had a calm exterior.

Sarek lightly sat on the edge beside her, and she laid back against her pillow.

“I can’t feel you,” observed Amanda. She mentally brushed against him again. “At least not well.”

His deep voice was levelled, as though not to disturb the still air. “I have been meditating. After an event that elicits a large amount of emotion – such as last night – I meditate to bring back order and control.”

Sarek paused as he looked down at her, his gaze soft. “Completely opening the bond would not assist me in this. It is only temporary until I complete my meditations.”

“Oh. I understand.”

“I will teach you this in time as well. For whenever you wish for privacy or distance.”

She nodded and then hesitated. “What happens now – now that we’re bonded?”

“I do not begin my new role as a Federation Ambassador until twenty-seven Standard days.”

“That’s quite a long time.”

“Indeed. It is typical for Vulcans to spend a short period alone between bondmates, for time is crucial in strengthening the bond.”

She softly smiled at him, and he seemed content to just watch her. The idea of a full month with Sarek sounded too good to be true. Amanda knew that as soon as he begins his ambassador duties, the extended times of solitude for the two will become rare.

A thought came into her head. “Does the Federation know about us?”

“They do not. I will inform them when I begin my duties.”

A comfortable lull fell over them, and Amanda felt no shame in just simply looking at him. She studied his angular features – sharp and striking, his dark, acute eyes. She wanted to touch him, but she remembered his words. He seemed so different from last night, but not in a bad way. Just different. He, in front of her, was the one she fell in love with, after all.

Sarek shifted, and she wondered if he felt that from her mind. “I do have a proposal.”

“Yes?”

“I am somewhat aware of certain human marriage customs, and we can partake on a ‘honeymoon’, if you desire.”

Amanda’s wide smile seemed to answer for her. “Where would we go?”

“Your decision. Anywhere in the Alpha Quadrant should suffice.”

She couldn’t even imagine where to begin. She’s only ever been on Earth and Vulcan, and the latter was the farthest she ever believed she’d go. “I don’t know,” Amanda answered honestly.

Sarek seemed to understand, as he gently offered, “When I do begin my travels abroad as Ambassador, you, of course, are able to join me as well.”

A new thought entered and warmed her chest.

It seemed that Sarek was indeed still attuned to her mind, as he finally caved. His lips pressed against hers, stifling her laugh. The bond between them softly swelled, as though taking a breath.

Amanda was going to travel the galaxy with this man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies this took so long! I finished my finals literally today and immediately jumped on this. 
> 
> BUT HOLY SHIT - ITS OVER. I cannot thank you guys enough for commenting and taking the time to read this!! I hope you guys enjoyed it, and I will never tire of hearing what you guys think!!! Sarek and Amanda are my OTP because of how different they are - and it is a joy to explore it!! As a last parting gift, I'm curious to know what was your favorite part/thing about this story.
> 
> I'm releasing my "part 2" continuation of A Case Study TONIGHT (or today, depending where you are at). Please check it out and leave the baby some love <3


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